Moving On
by EdwardsMuse0920
Summary: When Bella and Alice went to go save Edward in Italy, only 2 of them left alive. Now 20 years later, Edward is still trying to get over the loss of his beloved, until a new women comes in and heals his heart. My story after New Moon, with Bella dead. ON TEMP HIATUS
1. Prologue

Moving On

Prologue

"Your offense against the Volturi is unforgivable," Aro said finally. He and the other three masters of the Volturi had been deliberating on what to do with Edward, Alice, and Bella.

The three of them had it in good faith that they were going to die. Bella was a human, who not only _knew_ about the vampires, but was compounding the offense by standing there, in the Volturi's castle, as if it were nothing out of the ordinary. Oh contraire. Bella knowing about the existence of vampires went against the single most important rule that the Volturi had: _keep the existence of vampires a secret. _And not only had the Cullens broken that rule by telling Bella, Edward, in a fit of romantic foolishness, had almost flaunted the fact that they existed in front of all of Volterra.

In the eyes of Aro, Caius, and Marcus,something so inexcusable couldn't be forgiven without punishment. Problem was, the punishment they believed in was death.

If only Edward hadn't of come here to die. If only Alice hadn't had that vision of Bella jumping off a cliff. If only Bella hadn't jumped off that cliff. If only Edward and the rest of the Cullens hadn't left Bella in the first place. If only they had all listened to Bella all those god-forsaken nights ago when she said she didn't want an eighteenth birthday party. If, only, if only... so many of them. And if only they could go back into the past and undo them all, they would not be in this mess and they would all be going about their lives, together, Edward and Bella in love, living with the rest of the Cullen family happily.

But it was too late for that. It was too late for any of it.

So here the three of them were, Edward, trying to commit suicide because he thought that Bella was dead, Bella and Alice, there trying to save Edward from himself. All of them waiting to die. All it would take was the snap of Aro's fingers and the Volturi guard would be on them and there would be no use in fighting. They couldn't even make a run for it. The Volturi knew them too well and would be able to find them no matter where they went. If they weren't for sure sentenced to death already, then running would definitely finish the job.

"But since we are so fond of you and your family," Aro continued, "we have decided to be lenient towards you. We will let you leave here alive."

None of the three of them relaxed. And in retrospect, Edward and Alice will wonder why Edward wasn't able to catch one thing specific on their sentence from on of their heads, and why Alice never had a vision, but for right now, they're to concentrated to notice the abnormalities.

Aro continued. "You, my young friends may leave,"

It happened to fast for either Alice or Edward to see it. Felix, that over-muscled asshole from the guard, rushed over at the speed of light, grabbed Bella out of Edward's arms and, and carried her over to Aro, all before she could blink.

"But she is ours," he finished.

His teeth cut into her neck as if her skin and flesh was butter. Her screams were what registered next.

Edward and Alice rushed at him, all the while Edward screaming wordless screams, his fury so great, it could no longer be contained, but before they could get anywhere, Felix along with Dimitri, and a bunch of other soldiers from that the they couldn't name were blocking their way to Aro a little to thoroughly for their liking.

Bella continued screaming. Aro continued drinking.

"Get them out of here," Caius commanded over all the screaming- from Bella, Edward and Alice, and the guard- in the room. "And be sure that have no need to call on you again. We shan't be so merciful the next time."

"You bastards," Edward screamed over and over. "I'll kill you.!"

They carried out by the whole guard and there was nothing they could about it. All the while Bella's screams rang on and on.


	2. Chapter 1: Pointless

**DISCLAIMER**: I wish Edward were real, and I wish he were mine. Alas he is not real and he is not mine. He and the rest of the Cullens belong to Stephenie Meyer.

Chapter One: Pointless

"Edward, we have to go," Alice said from behind me.

"We're going to be late," Rose added.

Late. For our first day of college. Again. It was all so tedious and repetitive. Who cared about being on time to something you'd done time and time again? I had no interest. I simply had no energy to give a damn. It just seemed like a waste of time. No, not exactly a waste of time, because you had to have a point to your time in order for your time to be wasted, which I did not. It felt more like it was pointless. There was no point to anything anymore.

"You go ahead," I told them, knowing that Jasper and Emmett would hear from below. "I'll catch up."

"Edward—" Alice started.

"Leave him," Rose told her, voice hard.

Edward, please, Alice begged me from her mind as they started to leave. We need you.

Don't know why we bother, Rose thought angrily. All I wanted was my brother back. But he's never coming back.

Whatever. Let them think what they want. They didn't understand.

I walked over to the window of my room, looking out to the teeming city of NYC. We had been here for at least two weeks—I wasn't sure; keeping track of time wasn't really something that I cared to do anymore—and this house was way less isolated then the ones we had always lived in in the past. Carlisle and Esme had finally decided to get me out of the forest, thinking maybe that was the reason for my on-going depression. They were afraid that the forests were bringing back memories that were best left in the past. But it wasn't as if I needed the extra help to remember. Those memories were with me no matter where I was.

Besides, the change in scenery wasn't helping me the way my family thought it would. The city was loud and obnoxious.

I missed the forests that my family was trying to get me away from. I missed the ever constant rain and I missed the clouds. I missed all the green. I missed the quiet town that was Forks.

I knew why I missed it so much and it wasn't because I thought of that place as home. It wasn't anything special, and it had been over twenty years since I'd been there last, so by now, if it were any other town, it shouldn't even make my "Things to Try Not to Think About" list.

I missed it so much because it was the only place I had known _her. _If I could consider any place a home, Forks would be it and it was only because of her. Forks was the last place I had seen my beloved Bella, seen her happy and smiling, at least. It was the last place we had been together until I led her to Italy. Forks was the last place I had seen Bella before I had led her to her death.

Memories of her overwhelmed me, and I tried to fight them back, but it was all to no use. She was on my mind now and the only things I could see were her and the way she smiled, and the sound of her laugh, and how she blushed at least three times an hour. I remembered the little crease she got between her eyebrows whenever she was stressed. I remembered all those nights spent with her as she slept, listening to her say my name, hearing her say she loved me. I remembered how she trusted me with her life and I remembered how in love with her I'd been and how in love with her I still was.

I shut my eyes, but all I could see was her.

Yes, I missed Forks, but I would never go back there. Forks was only Forks if she was there. Without her, it would go back to the soulless, lifeless place it had always been to me before I found her there. Plus if I ever was to back there, the memories and emotions would finally be enough to kill my dead heart.

I was happy to leave Forks the way it was in my memories, and not ruin it by going back and finding nothing but a shell of what it had been for me while Bella was there. If I went back, I would lose the last essence of her I had.

If only I hadn't left her in the first place, we might still me happy today. I probably would have given into her and turned her into a vampire by now, and we would have been happy and we would have had forever. Forever together, just like we'd always wanted. Too late for that now.

It was so ironic that I had left her and every true piece or happiness I had ever known, in order to save her from myself, when ultimately, I had been the reason for her death despite my efforts and both our sufferings. She would still be alive today if I hadn't gone to Volterra to die. That was one of the reason why I didn't go to back and off myself now: my Bella went there to save and if I died that way, all her efforts would have wasted, and also I knew she would never forgive me if I went to get myself killed. And I thought that death was too easy for me to get off after the horrible thing I had done against Bella, and I couldn't anyone else I loved die trying to save me. If I went back to the Volturi, Alice would surely see it and all of them would come to save me. And they would fail, and it would be the end of the Cullens.

I remembered what Alice had said when we had been thrown out of the castle:

"_We have to go back," I shouted at Alice. "We may still have a chance."_

"_Edward, stop!" she grabbed my arms hard, forcing me to look at her. "There is no chance. They killed her."_

"_No!" I shouted at her. "We can still try, we can still get her back."_

"_No, Edward. If we go back now, they will kill us. There will be no other chance."_

_I broke free of her hands at that point. "Good that's why I came here in the first place."_

"_And what about me?"_

"_Go home."_

"_You know I won't leave without you."_

"_Go home, Alice. Go be happy with Jasper with Jasper and the rest of the family."_

"_You are _so_ blind." She started pacing around in exasperation. "No one is happy. We are miserable because _you_ are miserable. Whether you are with us or not, we feel your pain and we share it."_

"_Forget about me," I told her._

"_You are also an idiot. We love you, you asshole. We can't forget about you. I can't forget about you. You're my brother."_

"_Well, try," I told her through my teeth as I started walking away, back to the underground entrance._

"_What about Esme?" she shouted after me, halting my steps. "She's like our mother. What will I tell her when you die? Or Carlisle? He gave you your life again. He'll come after you no matter what. Will you end his life as well?"_

"_Why are you doing this?" I demanded._

"_She started walking closer to me. "I'm trying to tell you that this, you going to kill yourself, is all for no use. It will only cause more death. This will not bring her back. Look at me." She grabbed my face. "It won't bring her back!"_

"_Damn it, Alice? Why did you have to open your mouth? Why couldn't you just listen to me just _once_ when I told you to '_leave Bella alone_'?"_

"_So I was just supposed to ignore the vision I had of Bella dying? Just go on about my business and let it happen?" she asked incredulously _

"_YES!" I punched a wall, and a shower of stone came down, leaving large, rough dent in the stone wall. "If you had just stayed away, or pretended like you'd never had the vision, none of this would have happened. Despite what you _thought_ you saw, Bella would have stayed alive. I would have stayed away and I would have been fine." I pegged her with a nasty glare. "Bella would have lived and I would have fine without her and her without me."_

_There was a short pause. "So this is my fault?" she asked, her voice low and inflectionless._

_I didn't answer her, just kept glaring._

"_Neither of you were 'fine'," she replied, her voice hardening. "This isn't my fault." Then Alice's voice became colder than a vampire's skin. "You never should have left her."_

_That, the way she said it, made me stumble back in agony. But she continued, as if my pain was nothing more than a fly on her windshield: easily ignored. "Taking the Cullens out of her life didn't solve find her. Victoria asked him to go scouting for her where-abouts because _she_ wanted to kill Bella, because of what we did to James. With Laurent, it was nothing personal. She was just there and he was thirsty. See how easy it was for her to find ways to die without us?"_

"_Stop." I didn't want to hear anymore. I didn't want to hear all the ways I had screwed Bella up, because I knew all too well how I had ruined her life. I started retreating from Alice slowly._

_Alice wasn't going to let me get away though; every step I took in my efforts to distance myself from her, she mirrored the step, advancing on me. "She started doing stupid things just so she could feel close to you again, did you know that? Stupid things like riding motorcycles and going off with strangers, and _jumping off cliffs._"_

"_Stop it," I pleaded._

_Alice kept coming forward, with both her steps and her words. "She was doing all these things just so she could hear your voice again. Just so she could feel like you were protecting her."_

"_Don't—"_

"_She met a werewolf, Edward, how do you feel about that? A young, reckless, poorly-tempered werewolf. She chose that as her best friend."_

"_Alice—"_

"_She was so damaged that she had to go find the closest monsters in town to fill the void in her life."_

"_Alice, please—"I put my hands over my ears, trying to block out the sounds, trying to block out everything. But it was all to no use. Her voice prevailed no matter what I did._

"You _made the choice to leave her and that is something that we are all going to have to live with. _You _made the choice to come to Volterra to die and _she _ended up dying instead."_

"_Are you trying to kill me?" I managed to choke out_

"_You've done a lot of things wrong by her. You left her and her life went to hell because of it. You came to kill yourself and she died. If you go back there and die now, everything she did for you will be in vain. Bella would have died for nothing. Will you dishonour her like that, Edward, in the worst way possible?"_

_I crumpled under the pain that had a death grip on my body. My hands came up to cover my face. "I can't do this, Alice. I can't live without her."_

_I felt her hands on my back, soft and gentle now, as was her voice. "Starting now, you're going to have to. For Bella's sake you're going to have to."_

Under her relentless stare, everything she had said really shredded its way through my brain, leaving nothing but pain and the permanent scars there. Those words would stay with me forever_._

Alice had been right about everything, of course. I had pushed Bella to do all those self-destructive things and I had been the reason why she died. If I went back, it would have been a wasted death. Not that it hadn't been in the first place.

She was also right about my family. If I went off again, what would happen to them? I knew the answer. The Cullens deserved better than that. They deserved better than me.

Though most of my pain was reserved for Bella and what had happened to her, I still had enough left in me to feel sorry for all I had put my family through. They had lost Bella and a home too. They had to put up with me and the misery that I couldn't seem to shake. It wasn't fair to them, but seeing as they refused to leave me on my own, there was really nothing I could do about it.

My cell phone chimed, and when I looked at the screen. It was Alice, probably checking in on me and urging me to come and meet them at the college. She was always checking up me, afraid that one day the depression would become too much and I would try for another escape. But damn it, couldn't she ever leave me be when I asked her—

I looked at the time on the clock. It was ten-thirty. They had left about an hour and a half ago.

Shit.

Orientation was about to start. I needed to go there now.

With a sigh of resignation, I walked out of the luxurious penthouse apartment, to the elevators and to the first floor. I wasn't in any hurry to get to the I was going, so instead of driving, I would walk and hope that I missed whatever it was that Alice was so anxious to get to.

Unfortunately, the walk wasn't as long as I had hoped it would be. I was there in about half an hour.

I looked at what I was to be attending and all I could think about was my Bella. Julliard.

I remembered when I was younger, in the earlier years of my vampirism, I had always wanted to attend here. With infinite time on my hands, it seemed very plausible, but as the years passed, the desire had been clouded by others. But there was a time, on time, when Bella had recommended the place to me, saying it was perfect for me and that the place needed somebody like me. She said that she would have loved to go to the school if she had any artsy talent at all.

"_All I'm saying is consider it someday," she said with playful resignation._

"_Are you going to fill out that application, or am I going to have forge your signature again?" I asked with a smile._

_We were up in her room, laying all over each other on her bed. We'd been up here for hours and hours, just the two of us listening to music and of course arguing over her future. Again._

"_It's a waste of talent if you don't play where it will be properly appreciated, and if you ask me, it's also a little selfish," she said with disdain._

"_I play for you, and I hoping you appreciate properly. And as long as you do, that's enough for me."_

"_I love your music. I want others to hear it and love it as well. And if you ask me, it's kind of insulting." She threw up her hands in exasperation, getting more dramatic now. My smile broadened. "I mean, here you are, all immortal, more amazing than any human when it comes to everything, and you won't even take advantage of your talents. There are people out there who would kill for your advantages and would love to go to Julliard if they could play and compose like you can, and would definitely take the chance to go. Hell, Julliard would be my dream school if I could do anything remotely artsy. I mean don't you at least want the experience?"_

"_I have experienced college," I reminded her on a laugh. "Why would I go to Julliard when you can't go with me? And why are you pushing college on me when you don't even want to go yourself?"_

"_Maybe you could change me, teach me to be as good as you, and then we _can_ together. How does that sound to you?"_

_It sounded like heaven, but I refused to get tangled in the seductive and tempting images of Bella as an immortal and a forever that could be ours. Bella was going to stay human and that was final._

"_That's not going to happen," I said, trying to keep up with the light, playful nature of the conversation._

"_You don't want to teach me? Well that's disappointing but I'll get over it. Forever is a long time to be held up on broken dreams."_

_At that I actually laughed, my good humor returned. "Your love is all I need. As long as I have it, then there's nothing else I want."_

"_I still think you should consider it."_

Well I had considered it and I was here now and the only reason was because of her. But as I stared at what I could see of the school, it was too much. The memory of Bella pushing it on me, of her saying it would be perfect for the both of us someday, consumed me.

Just another plan she had never had the chance to see through.

As I felt my phone buzz again in my pocket, I turned around and walked back the way I'd come. I couldn't do this now. There was no point to it. There was no point to anything anymore.

Everything was pointless.


	3. Chapter 2: Fascinated

**DISCLAIMER- **I'm writing this story, using these characters, but only one of these two things is mine. Guess which one belongs to me and which belong to Stephenie Meyer.

Chapter 2: Fascinated

I was ignoring the text messages that kept coming in from my siblings. No doubt I would get hell for skipping orientation when I eventually went home, but right now that didn't seem so important. I couldn't go into that school today. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I would let Alice and the rest of them drag me into the school kicking and screaming. But today I would avoid it and all talk/thoughts about it at all costs.

I walked and walked along the busy sidewalks, ignoring the looks I got from the curious or attracted humans, just listening to the din of the city: the traffic, the thousands of feet on the concrete, the busy humans on their phones, and their thoughts that accompanied them. There were so many voices, internal and external, that instead of being overwhelming, it all just settled into a background buzz as I tuned it all out. It was vaguely amazing to me that I could stay so numb in such chaotic surroundings.

About an hour later the sound of music broke through my barriers. I was standing in front of a small music store that had its doors open and was blaring sound from the inside. "Beats" was the name of the store.

Why not, I decided. It's not like I had anything more important to do with my time. Or rather, anything more important that I planned on attending to.

I walked into the store to see that it was decently full of young people looking for their idea of good music. Music was the one thing that hadn't lost its complete magic for me. I still had my piano and I even took up guitar, I still went CD browsing on a regular basis, I still went to whatever local band concerts of whatever town we were living in. It was what I was enrolled in Julliard for, or course. And since I was here, why not take a look at the place.

I wasn't in there long before one of the working girls there, with a fluffy name like Candy, or Mandy or whatever, came to ask "if I needed help", but of course I knew those weren't her real intentions, so I brushed her off with a barely worded refusal, and started looking for where to start. I never had trouble finding what I was looking for in a music store.

I started out in Rock, looking for the latest Twisted CD I'd neglected to get before. Great band with an original rock sound, not really as modern as what one would here in this day and age.

I was in the T area of the rock section, when a scent became noticeable to me above all the others. It was a spicy, fruity scent, mixed with something floral, like night blooming roses. I hadn't smelt anything so amazing since Bella.

I quickly cranked down on every muscle in my body. Since Bella had died, I hadn't had to deal with anymore singers and I was thankful, but that initial surprise at the first meeting with her still lingered in my mind enough to realize what was happening. I held my breath and looked to where the fragrance was coming from.

There was a girl standing about ten feet away from me in the same isle. She was the only person standing close enough to me for a scent to register. Was it her? I wasn't about to check.

_Calm down_, I chanted in my mind. This wasn't anything I was unfamiliar with. Bella had been the most divine smelling thing in the world, and I had been able to resist her for the whole duration of our relationship. I'd even been strong enough to drink form her when the need arose. I could handle this. I would find my CDs, buy them and not leave a damn second before that moment. I wouldn't be chased away from anything by another human again.

But this human was making it really hard to not notice her. I looked at her again, still keeping all air passageways blocked. She had a pair of red headphones over her ears, the really expensive, high-tech ones, vintage-looking ones. I had a pair in green at home. She was bobbing her head eccentrically, like no one was around to see her, to whatever music was coming through them. Extending my senses a bit I could hear it was an older one, the genre alternative rock. A little concentration and I recognized it from the "All We Know is Falling" album that was released way back in 2005 by Paramore. I had that one at home as well. "My Heart" was the song. One of my favourites.

She came down the aisle and the music from her headphones became even more present to me. It looked like the CDs in the selves and the music in her ears were the only things that held her attention because she really didn't seem to notice me.

I got back to searching for my CD, trying to ignore the music coming from her, trying to ignore her all together. I wanted my numb barriers back so I could get what I came for and leave.

She was close now, and I could feel the warmth of body radiating to mine as it came off her in waves and she danced to what she was listening to. She either had no clue that I was standing here or was ignoring me like I was trying to do with her—but wasn't succeeding at— and wasn't reacting the way normal humans would when around one of us.

Finally. Twisted. I could grab this one and go find whatever else I may want. But as I reached for the CD, a small hand landed on top of mine. My hand snapped back from the warm, soft touch, more out of surprise then discomfort. I was surprised at how...nice that warm skin felt on mine. I hadn't let a human touch me in twenty years. It was also the same amount of time since I'd felt that electric current run over my stone cold skin.

I looked at the dancing girl. She still didn't seem to pay any attention to me at all.

"Sorry," she said vacantly, then grabbed the last Twisted CD there was and walked to another aisle.

What the hell? Did she not feel the temperature of my skin? What was she thinking?

I couldn't resist the urge to follow her. The lyrics of that song kept playing in my head:

"_Sing us a song, and we'll sing it back to you_

_We could sing our own, but what would be without you?"_

She was in the hip-hop section now, still browsing. What was she thinking? Only one way to find out.

I looked over the shelves at her, and she didn't even see my eyes at her. I started probing, trying to get into her mind, trying to see what she was seeing and thinking.

I got nowhere.

What the hell? This hadn't happened since…

She looked up at me, as if sensing that someone was watching her. Her expression wasn't what I expected; instead of looking upset or weirded out at some random man staring at her, she smiled a little, looking only a small bit confused and lot curious. But she didn't seem flirtatious at all, like I was used to from other women, she just seemed…interested, or maybe she looked fascinated.

She didn't look away from me as I stared into her eyes, trying to get through whatever was blocking me from her brain and the answers I wanted. In fact she stared back into mine. That was another thing about her. When humans saw our eyes, they were immediately repelled from, struck by our alieness and made uncomfortable by it. They usually shifted their positions, looked anywhere but at us, fidgeted with their clothing. But she just stayed where she was, staring right back at me, like there was nothing unusual about me, like I was completely normal. What was going on with her?

Why couldn't I see her mind?

Her eyes were an intense shade of blue, kind of like sapphires. No, they were exactly like sapphires. There was an interesting crystal look to them that dragged me in and kept me there.

I was only free when she looked away from me to take off her headphones.

"Can I help you?" she asked, still with that slight smile on her lips.

The most amazing thing happened when she spoke. All the other voices, all the other thoughts went silent. I was trapped in her voice, and what thing of beauty to be stuck in. The way she spoke, the rhythm of her speech had a musical appeal to it. It was like I was listening to a perfect piano chord.

I was afraid to answer, afraid that if I spoke I would breathe in that scent again. And if it was her that smelled that way, it really wasn't safe for me to be standing just a shelf's width away from her. In fact it pretty much spelled trouble.

So I just shook my head like an idiot.

The confused expression started to cloud over the fascinated one. "Are you okay?"

"Not exactly," I said without thinking, and the spicy fruity smell ripped down my throat in a burst of flames. It was her. The scent was her. She was the singer.

"Okay," she said a little awkwardly. "Is there something you need from me?"

_Yes._ "No."

"Uh, okay." She looked at me for one more second, the shook her head with a little chuckle. With her head phones around her ears again, she was down the aisle and away from me once more.

I held my breath again as I followed where she was going. Why I was reacting this way to some human I wasn't sure, but she was intriguing. With a start I realized this was the first time anything had interested me in about… twenty years.

She browsed a little more, picking out what she liked and I realized that we had a lot of the same taste. She stayed mostly with the older stuff, passing over most of the modern things, like did a lot of the time. And when she had paid for her findings, I followed her out of the store and into the city. Once we were outside, I was able to let out a breath. There were so many other scents around us that hers held no special significance to me as long as I kept an inconspicuous distance behind her.

She kept dancing along, as if she were in her own private space with no one around, and yet she managed to keep out of touch with all the people around her, never making any physical contact with any of the other humans. How could someone have so much confidence in such a strange, busy environment was amazing. She acted like she was by herself as she moved to the new song in her ears. It was another older one by Flourence + the Machine: "Dog Days Are Over."

Her phone started ringing and I was surprised she was able to hear it.

Rummaging through the vintage messenger bag that hung from her shoulders, she searched until she found what looked like a blackberry. "Hey, Anya," she said casually once her headphones were around her neck and her phone was at her ear. Just like that, every sound around us disappeared.

It sounded like whoever Anya was wasn't happy with her. I couldn't make out exactly what she was saying to her, seeing as I was too far away from her, but it sounded like my Jane Doe was getting reprimanded.

"Oh shit, I forgot that was today!" she said when Anya was done yelling at her. Now she sounded anxious.

"Well, you weren't even home last night and you said we go together."

More talking from Anya, then, "Okay I'm sorry I missed it. Pick up my package for me and be home later…. Yeah okay I'll meet you in an hour. Bye." She sounded annoyed now.

She did an exasperated spin and found me standing a little ways away from. This time she did look a little upset and confused at a strange guy following her. She stared at me questioningly for a moment.

What was she thinking now? How was she feeling now? What did she see in me that kept her from reacting like a regular human should?

She shook her head at me again, then started walking down the way she had been originally.

I was about to follow her again, when my own phone call came in.

"What, Rosalie," I demanded once I'd answered and was following my mystery girl again.

"Where the hell are you?" she demanded, beyond angry. She was probably more upset at the fact that I was ignoring her calls then that I wasn't where I was supposed to be.

"I'm out," I said as fought through the human bodies on the side walk, trying to keep up with her.

"Then why aren't you here?"

"I'm not in the mood right now, Rosalie," I said as I sped up my pace to stay with her.

"Do you think I care? What exactly is so important, other than your wallowing, that you couldn't make it to orientation?"

"Nothing in particular," I answered absently. Her head was distant now and it was getting more and more busy on this street. She was slipping away.

Rose took a few deep, annoyed breaths, and then I heard he explain to the others my lack of reason for not being with them.

"It's pretty much over," she bit out. "Just come home, please."

"Rose, I'm—"

"Let me rephrase, Edward. Go home _now_. We'll see you there in a half hour."

I cursed as we hung up, but I might as well go home now anyway. I'd been out for hours, and I couldn't see my Jane Doe anymore.

It took me more than half an hour to get home, mostly because I was three hours away on foot, partly because I wasn't looking forward being bitched out by my siblings for missing today, especially Rosalie.

I knew Rose was as worried about me as the rest of them. She just had a more…passionate way of showing it.

"Well, look who actually showed up," she said scathingly when I got up to the apartment.

All four of them were there, all four of them were pissed off.

"I'm sorry I missed today," I told them, deflated. I was too tired to fight.

"No you're not. You promised to be there, and you weren't," Rose started angrily. "But somehow I'm not surprised."

"Rose," Emmett cautioned.

"No, he should hear this." She looked me dead in the eyes focussing only on me. "When are you going to wake up, Edward? When are you going to move on?"

"Excuse me?" I demanded.

"Bella is gone, Edward," she said loudly, annunciating each word, as if the extra volume and precise pronouncing would finally get through to me. She took a few steps towards me. "She's gone. The Volturi killed her and she's not coming back. Get over her and move on."

"Don't say her name," I said warningly to her. "Don't you dare say that name."

"Why not, it's just a name. Bella. Bella. Bella Bella Bella!" she taunted me. "It's just the name of a dead girl."

I didn't think. I launched myself at Rosalie, to angry to speak, so infuriated that she would be so insensitive.

Rosalie stood her ground, waiting for the impact of me. But Before I could even touch her, Emmett was right in front of me, holding me back.

"Rose, stop!" Alice yelled at her.

"Why? All this time, we've been coddling him like a baby, waiting for him to snap out of it, but get this Alice: he's not going to. He's _never_ going to, unless someone does it for him."

"You insensitive bitch," I snarled at her.

"If that's what I have to be to get you back to normal, then so be it," she replied.

"You don't get it," I yelled at her. "You don't even care."

"I get what you're going through," she said. "I know you're in pain. But you're not even trying to move on. You've been sitting on your ass for two decades doing nothing but stewing in your own misery. You need to try to get your life back on track. You're being a selfish jerk. Do you even think about what you're doing to Esme or Carlisle? Or how your emotions affect Jasper? Everyone is miserable because of you."

"Of course you have to make this about yourself, Rosalie," I accused. "What's new?"

"This isn't about her, Edward," Jasper said quietly. "This is about our family."

"Edward, we're tired of this," Alice interjected. "It's time you started to live again."

"None of you understand," I shouted, exasperated. "I know what you think. I know that the way I act hurts you all and I wish you didn't have feel it, but there's nothing I can do about it." I pegged them all with a hard stare. "You think I haven't tried to move on? I wish I could forget about all the misery and live my life like I did before I knew Bella. But forgetting the pain means forgetting Bella. And I can't do that yet. I'll _never_ be able to do that."

"It doesn't mean you forget her, to move on," Alice said. "It only means you get to be happy again. You can stop blaming yourself for what happened. You can find some peace."

_Isn't that what you want? _she asked in her head.

"I don't want anything anymore," I replied.

"You want her," Rose said quietly. "And until you can forget about that yearning, you'll never be able to be happy again."

"Happy isn't something I remember anymore," I told them truthfully. "And if it hurts you all so much, then I'll leave. I'll leave and you'll never have to deal with me again."

"You know that's not what we want," Emmett said angrily. "You leaving doesn't solve anything."

"Well that's the only solution I can see." I looked to what Alice. "Can you see anything? Jasper, can you make me feel something else?" I asked scathingly.

"You know I won't do that," he answered in a low voice.

"Then I can't help you anymore than I can help myself."

I turned away from, sensing that was all they had to say on the issue. For now. They hadn't gotten through to me today but they would try again eventually. They always did.

My anger was already dimming into the numb nothingness I often found myself in.

"I'm sorry I missed today. But thank you for picking up my package."

"Are you going to put it to use?" Alice demanded, but only her voice was hard. Her thoughts were pleading and desperate, begging me to come out of my funk.

"I'll be there tomorrow."

I left the room at that, but their thoughts still floated in the air around me. I still heard what they thought about the pathetic state being I was in now. They were angry, sympathetic, annoyed, frustrated, hopeless…

I needed a way to mute them out. I knew that leaving wasn't an option; one of them would follow me no matter what I said to them. The only option was music.

I went to the piano, taking residence at my usual seat there. I started off with an older piece, Esme's Favourite, paying specific attention so that I didn't drift off into one melody in particular. The notes fell from my hands effortlessly, and I played until nothing else came through to my consciousness. But the sound of my piano reminded me of a voice. The human's voice. And soon the notes and harmonies of Esme's Favourite wasn't what was coming from the piano. It was a new song, a different song, one that wasn't of my compositions. The lyrics to the song came back to my head again, as it had over and over again this afternoon.

_I am finding out, that I was wrong._

_That I've fallen down, and I can't do this alone._

_Stay with me. This is what I need, please. _

There was something about that human girl from the music store. The way she moved, the way she talked. The way she acted so sure of herself with me around, showing none of the usual discomfort and fear that was expected of a normal human, and that was why she fascinated me.

But it wasn't just that. Her thoughts were hidden from me, just like Bella's had been.  
>The reasoning behind her every action, her every movement was hidden from me, and that wasn't something I was used to. I wanted to know why I didn't frighten her, why she didn't look away when my eyes bore into hers, trying to probe her silent thoughts. What had she been thinking when she'd noticed me following her? Did my cold skin shock her as much as her warmth had shocked me? Had she been scared and just too righteous to show it, or was she really just that self-confident? Whatever it was, I wanted to know. And those eyes, those sapphire eyes. I could tell that those eyes held such stories and depth, stories that I would like to pry out of her, get her to trust me and tell me everything.<p>

But it wasn't like I would get the chance to ask her anything. The chances of me seeing her again were pretty much impossible in a city this size. And it was probably for the better that I never caught sight of her again. Because she was a singer. My singer.

That made three things she had in common with Bella.

Her scent had punched down my throat like a fist of flames, ripping it into fire. I had handled it well, managing to talk to her without ripping her neck open, but that didn't mean that getting anywhere near her was a good idea. Or even a remotely okay idea. If I ever saw her again, the number one priority was to avoid her like the plague. The danger that she could potentially be in if I were to be around her struck me hard, and the thought that she would be put in peril at my hands sent an odd pain through my long dormant heart.

_Sing me a song, and we'll sing it back to you._

_We could sing along, but what would it be without you?_

I shook her off and let the lyrics and the melody become the focus of my mind, though if I was truly committed to not thinking about the strange girl, I would have picked a different song to play.

_I am nothing now, and it's been so long._

_Since I've heard a sound, the sound of my only hope._

It all didn't matter, anyways. My fascination would wear off and I would never see her again, and it was all for the better. She was too much of temptation for me, and I wouldn't pretend with myself that it was just her blood that attracted me to her. She was something different, something fascinating.

Something that I needed to steer clear of.

It should be easy. After all, she was just another human, I told myself.

Just another human.


	4. Chapter 3: Ridiculous

**DISCLAIMER: **these characters are true things of beauty. And the artist that created them is Stephenie Meyer.

Chapter 3: Ridiculous

"Are you coming today or are you going to flake on us again?" Rosalie asked me at nine-thirty the next morning.

I sneered at her. "I'll be right out."

This seemed to surprise her, but she recovered from it quickly. "Take your time, princess."

I was out with them the next ten minutes, and Alice gave me my school package, which outlined my classes, their schedule for them, a map of the campus and the extra-curriculars. Not that I would need that last part.

We left earlier then they had yesterday because unlike yesterday, it was sunny out, which meant we had to go to extra lengths to avoid being... conspicuous. And finding underground parking at the college wasn't going to be fun.

Turned out I was right, and finding parking took about twenty minutes.

"Let's go," Alice said when we reached the main floor. They were all buzzing with excitement to start their classes, Alice enrolled in the visual arts programs, Rosalie in music and drama, Emmett and Jasper and me in music as well.

They all seemed to be in hurry to go and start their first day, their thoughts blending in with the humans' around them, whereas I couldn't seem to take a proper breath. Maybe I should just stop breathing all together. The memory of Bella came rushing back again. She'd genuinely wanted to come here with me.

"_Maybe you could change me, teach me to be as good as you, and then we _can_ go together. How does that sound to you?"_ she'd asked me.

Heaven. It had sounded like heaven.

_Edward_, Alice called from her mind. _Don't think about her._

I nodded subtly to her seeing as none of the others noticed our quiet exchange

_You going to be okay?_ she asked.

I nodded again though I wasn't particularly sure that was the right answer.

"I'll see you guys later." Without waiting for a response, I started off for my first class, which was Modern and Classical fusion in building C.

My morning classes flew by in an uneventful blur. They were all the similar as far as I was concerned: seminar rooms filled with excited, buzzing young humans, who were passionate about what they were in the class for. Once upon a time I would have been one of them, minus the human part.

By two-thirty that afternoon I had one more class left for the day and just my luck, it would be with Rosalie. What a way to end the day.

"Look alive, Edward," she said as we met up for the last class of my day. She still had one more after this.

"This isn't good enough for you?" I gave her an amazingly fake smile for her benefit. It was better than lashing out at her for reprimanding me again.

Things between me and Rose had always been tense. Ever since the first moment she'd heard me speak, she'd been annoyed with me. And when Bella came around, it didn't help us work out whatever issues we had. I had always thought Bella's death would be a welcome event in her mind because of the way she'd treated her while she was part of our lives and I had always hated the fact that my "sister" couldn't just be happy that i was finally happy. I'd also always resented her for being the one who let me know that Bella was dead. I partly blamed her for what had happened back in Volterra twenty years ago. Yes, Alice had set the wheels in motion with that vision, but Rosalie had helped drive the car the wheels were attached to by telling me what had happened. And every fight the two of us had shared over Bella's death and the effects of it had put even more strain between us. Of course I knew Rose loved me, and I knew I loved her, but out of all my siblings, she's always been the hardest for me to deal with. A "headache" was what I not so secretly called her.

But after yesterday, we were particularly at odds with each other. She'd never liked Bella, so of course it would be easy for her to act like her death was nothing sequential, when to the rest of the family it had been catastrophic .

_Can you at least_ act _like you care?_ she berated me from her mind.

"You're the one in the drama program. Why don't you do enough acting for the both us and leave me alone?" I murmured scathingly.

She rolled her eyes in disgust as we took our seats next to each other. We sat more in the middle of the classroom, ignoring the curious and attracted stares of the humans around us. It seemed that this group was catching on to our unusualness faster than most, seeing as we sat fairly isolated from the class.

It was very full class, much like all my others, the door on the top level of the semi-circular room as the seats slanted downward like in a movie theatre, and the professor would stand at the bottom in the front. I was prepared to float through this one like all the others.

"Alright, alright," the teacher called over the buzz from the excited students in the class.

This teacher was younger than my others. She was mid-thirties, tall with long dark hair, and green eyes. Her makeup was done dramatically, yet nicely, I supposed, and she seemed more energetic then my other teachers. Maybe this class would be different from my others today.

"My name is Juliana Hartley, but you, my new friends, can all call me Jules. I will be your Composition teacher for this semester."

The class started to buzz again. Juliana "Jules" Hartley was a big deal in the music industry. She'd written songs for some of the top names in music and has worked with and produced for all the best, and if you got her vote of approval, you were pretty much in.

"All of you guys are here because you either A, write songs and/or pieces, B, you want to learn to write your own music, or C, you want strengthen your writing skills. But whatever the reason, I'm happy to be the one who gets to help further develop your love of music." Her eyes were sharp as she searched the classroom, landing and lingering on Rose and me for a moment before she moved on.

"All songs are unique because all song writers are unique. We write from what's inside ourselves, and the best songs often come from when we dig deep inside. I, for example, write mostly depending on my moods. But some write from past experiences, some can find inspiration in the people in their lives, or in the small things around them. But one thing always remains true: the type of song we write comes from the type of person we are. Your interest outside of music, your other talents, your likes and dislikes, the past you went through, the future you aspire for, the people around you and the person they shaped you to be. All of that comes out when we express ourselves. In this class we are going to figure out the person we truly are, and that will help you compose and write to best of your abilities." She turned away from the students, pacing slowly around the room. "So I always love to start my semester off with putting some of my new friends on the spot. When I point to you, I want your name and the first thing about yourself that comes to your mind. Get it? Good. Are we ready, friends?"

There was a collective yes.

"Okay." She turned sharply on her heal, her arm flicking out to point to someone directly in front of her.

"You. Name," she demanded.

"I'm Chris, and other then music, I love sports," a boy from the front row stuttered.

"Very good," Jules said approvingly. "You, purple tank, name."

"Melanie, and I have one sister and three brothers," she said immediately.

"Okay, good job." Jules' arm snapped out to someone higher up and to her left. "With the metal, your turn."

"Anthony and I have a piercing fetish." The class started to laugh softly at that. Even Rosalie cracked a smile.

"I can see that." She smiled at him, then addressed the class. "You can tell a lot from a person when you hear the first thing that comes to their mind when put on the spot. Like Melanie. The first thing that came out of her mouth had to do with her family. She's probably more of a personal writer, meaning she would write about things close to her heart." She looked to Melanie. "Am I right?"

"You are," Melanie answered incredulously.

"You see? Now I'm going to point to… you!" her finger landed on Rosalie. "You, goldie locks. Name and one thing about yourself."

"I'm Rosalie, and I can't stand pathetic people," she said haughtily.

Jules looked taken aback and impressed at the same time. "Miss Rosalie is a more truthful, more… sassy writer. Am I right?"

"I'd say so," Rose answered, a little smirk on her lips.

"Only you, Rose," I murmured in disgust, too low for the humans to hear

"And only _for_ you, Edward," she murmured right back.

"Are you starting to get what I'm saying? All those aspects of your personality play a role in the music you create. Are you more reckless, are you responsible? Are you emotional, or stone cold? Are you—"

At that moment, she was interrupted, because the door opened and a new comer came into the room.

"—late on your first day of college?" she finished.

That scent from the CD store flew back over to me. That sharp, spicy fruit smell, with the hint of roses. Oh, no. Oh, God no…

_Edward?_ Rose asked. _What's happening?_

I cranked back down on myself, as I had the day before in "Beats" and all those years ago in that Biology classroom. I was transported back, taken there in a tornado of déjà vu. Me, sitting in a classroom full of children; the teacher at the front of the room acknowledging the girl who had just walked in; me realizing that the scent coming off of her was the most beautiful scent I had ever taken in; me fighting back the monster in my chest that was begging me to take what I wanted.

Why here? Why now? Why _ever_?

"And this, class, is my favourite part of the first day," she gestured to the door, where my Jane Doe had come in. "The first late-comer."

"I'm sorry," the girl from the music store said.

"No need to apologize. What's your name?"

"Peirce," she said clearly.

Peirce…

"Peirce, I was just telling the class that I loved to put my new friends on the spot when I start a class. So that what's we're going to do here and now with you as punishment for being late. Do you write your own music?" Jules asked.

"Yes…" Peirce answered cautiously.

"Perfect! I want you to play for the class. Now."

Peirce's sapphire eyes almost popped out of her head. "Now?"

"That's what I said."

"And I have no choice?"

"Of course you do. There's always a choice in my class." Jules pegged Peirce with a hard stare. "You can play for us, or leave the class for the rest of today."

She sighed, but then she smirked, like she was accepting the challenge Jules had approached her with. "Alright then. Do you want me at the front of the class?"

The professor stepped off to the side, offering her the floor. "Be my guest," Jules said, falsely gallant.

Peirce dropped her messenger bag in a row closer to the top of the room, then made her way down with her guitar case in hand. I noticed that it was covered in band logos and pictures of famous singers from past and present, as well as little inscriptions in bright neon colours that stood out against the black, some song lyrics, and some little messages from friends.

Though I tried to look away from her, to concentrate on anything but her, I couldn't help but notice how beautiful she was. Everything about her screamed "unique". She was a decent height, but her slender legs seemed to go on forever in those cut-off jean shorts she was wearing, and through the dark grey baggy sweatshirt she had on—that was clearly meant to look the way it did, seeing as it ended just below her bellybutton and hung off one of her shoulders—I could tell that her body was slim as well, but in a beautifully curvy way.

Her face was interesting and clashed with the edgy look of her clothes and jewelry that she was wearing. Her hair was long. It was very long, reaching all the way to the small of her back, and it was black a midnight. Her lips were round and full and naturally red. The cheekbones under her flawless caramel coloured skin were mountain high and sharp. Her eyes were big and not exactly almond shaped, but not exactly round either, and they were framed by thick, mile long lashes. I wanted her to look at me, though that desire was ten kinds of stupid. But I wanted to see those sapphire eyes of hers again.

She looked like an angel wrapped in a dark package.

I knew it would have smart to leave. That would be the right thing to do, but I couldn't make myself go. This girl here was so… I couldn't even begin to think of a word that described her.

"Edward," Rose hissed. "What is it?"

"_Singer_," I murmured back.

She did a double take of the girl. "Her?"

I nodded.

Rose sighed. "Crap."

When in front of the classroom, she placed her guitar case on top of the large, glossy, black grand piano in the middle of the room, just like the one I had at home, and sat next to it.

"Okay," Peirce said when she was all set up. "I am Peirce Ellenson, and this," she said pointing to her guitar, "is Lucky LuLu."

There was a low chuckle from the class at that.

"Anyway, the song I'm going to play is a song I wrote long ago. It's called Lost, and I hope you enjoy my spur-of-the-moment performance."

Her fingers strummed the guitar softly, testing out different notes, making sure it was tune. And when she really started to play, the entire class went silent, and it was all I could do no o drop my mouth in awe. But that was nothing compared to when she started to sing. If I thought her voice was perfect in speech it was nothing compared to when sang. And once again, she became the only thing I was aware of.

_I'm out on my own again  
>Face down in the porcelain<br>Feeling so high but looking so low  
><em>

_Have you ever been so lost  
>Known the way and still so lost<em>

_Caught in the eye of a hurricane_  
><em>Slowly waving goodbye like a pageant parade<em>  
><em>So sick of this town pulling me down<em>  
><em>Friends are saying I should come back home but<em>  
><em>Can't find the way cause the way is gone<em>  
><em>So if I pray am I just sending words into outer space<em>

_Have you ever been so lost_  
><em>Known the way and still so lost<em>  
><em>Another night waiting for someone to take me home<em>  
><em>Have you ever been so lost<em>

_Is there a light_  
><em>Is there a light<em>  
><em>At the end of the road<em>  
><em>I'm pushing everyone away<em>  
><em>'Cause I can't feel this anymore<em>  
><em>Can't feel this anymore<em>

_Have you ever been so lost_  
><em>Known the way and still so lost<em>  
><em>Another night waiting for someone to take me home<em>  
><em>Have you ever been so lost<em>  
><em>Have you ever been so lost.<em>

There was silence when she finally played her last note, but then the class erupted into applause. I was the only one who didn't clap for her, but it wasn't for lack of trying. She was amazing. Like magic…

"Bravo!" Jules said appreciatively. "Seriously good job."

"Thanks," Peirce said.

"You see class," she said louder now. "This is what I'm talking about. That came from the soul, that was personal. That meant something to you, yes?"

"It was a pretty personal song I guess," Peirce allowed, and I wondered if I was the only one to notice that her tone was slightly defensive.

"That's what we're all going to try do by the end of this semester." She turned back to Peirce. "Peirce that was really great, amazing way to start off semester. So I guess I'm going to say I'm glad you came late to my class today. But make sure it doesn't happen again," Jules finished sternly. "You can take a seat."

Peirce nodded and packed up her guitar as Jules started to talk again. She started walking to where her things were, and a hand waved to her, a hand that was connected to a girl sitting in my row, not too far from me the other side of me. She smiled at the hand and made like she was coming towards the free seat next to her. _Oh no…_

The universe must really be the unforgivable place I'd always assumed it was, I concluded. Too close. She was getting too close…

Holding my breath saved me from the scent of her, but it was as if whether I smelt her or not, I still felt the effects of her on my body. I strained to stay in my seat as she approached. I kept my head down, as if that would make me less aware of her presence.

"Excuse—" she started when she got to me, but her words quickly died off as she stalled in front of me, recognized me.

What was she thinking now? Did she remember me, the strange man from the music store who had followed her out and then past that point?

_Don't do it, don't do it_. But I had to. I couldn't resist looking at her.

Her eyes were the first things I took in and i noticed that not only were they like sapphires, but they were like the ocean, so deep there seemed to be no end, but her shocked expression came next. She stared at me, definitely remembering me from the day before. Remembering and wondering.

My throat had ripped up into the flames the moment she'd stepped close to me, even though I couldn't smell her. It was the heat radiating off her body that got to me. She was so…warm I could feel it.

"Peirce!" the other girl whispered, urgently. She was staring at the two of, as if wondering at why she'd stopped before getting to her, But when she saw me, her face changed into understanding and approval.

Fortunately—or unfortunately, I wasn't sure—Peirce looked away from me and hurried to her friends side, but as she sat down, I got that questioning glance from her again.

I tried to pay attention to what Jules was saying, because I knew that it must be important, but the girl was all I could think about. It was perfectly typical that I would get a class with a _singer_. Again. A class was a place that she could not be easily avoided; I couldn't turn the other way if I saw her walking in my direction, I could not excuse myself from the room and not return if the pain and desire overwhelmed me. I was stuck.

Well there was an easy solution to this though it couldn't happen today. I would simply drop the course. It was better than suffering through the fire for two hours each day while at the same time I was putting her in danger.

I looked over at her. She was looked strong though, tough, and I could tell from just one look in her eyes that she had quite a past. She carried herself like she could handle anything the world threw at her, but she couldn't handle me, not if I let temptation of her blood overwhelm me. And that was a possibility.

I didn't want to leave this class, but it seemed this was the only smart thing to do.

The bell rang, signaling the end of class. Everyone stood to go , and once again she drew my attention. As if she felt me staring like the fool I was, she turned and looked at me, those deep, deep sapphire, oceanic eyes probing mine for answers. The same way I was probing her mind.

Nothing.

"Let's go," I hissed to Rosalie. I needed to be away from Peirce.

I ended up walking Rose to her last class.

"You need to drop that class," Rose said as we walked.

"I know," murmured back.

_Another _singer, she thought scathingly. _I cannot_ believe _this is happening again_.

That made two of us_._

"You going to fall in love with this one, too?" she asked. More like sneered.

I looked at her sharply. "Don't be ridiculous," I snapped.

"What's ridiculous is the fact that we can't seem to start over somewhere new without you finding a problem."

I growled at her. "Look Rose—"

"I don't want to hear it, Edward," she cut me off. "Just drop the class. Now. I'll see you later," she said as we got to where she needed to be.

As much as I hated to admit it, Rose was right. I knew I needed to drop the class, and never see Peirce again, but that idea seemed oddly repulsive to me. I didn't want to leave my class with her.

Was it possible that I could handle being around her without hurting her, the people around us and, most importantly, my family? I had handled it pretty well today, in my opinion, and she had been in sitting mere seats away from me. I could do it again the next time i saw her.

But that was completely irresponsible. I was already getting caught up in this insignificant human, and not just because of her blood. She was intriguing and frustrating; her silent thoughts had been a source of unease the whole class, and being so curious as to what was on her mind was driving me to want to get know her, and that could lead to dangerous things for her. Like the fact that I was so hung up on her. It was just that she was the only thing that had held my attention in twenty years. She was the only thing that truly eased the pain. It would be better to distance myself from her before I could become obsessed.

I wanted to stay away from her. I wanted to be near her. That put me in even more of a predicament.

I wasn't going to run away from anything ever again, just because I was afraid.

One more day. I'll give it one more and see how I handled it.

"_You going to fall in love with this one, too?" _Rose's mocking words echoed through my head. That was absurd, totally and completely absurd.

I wasn't sure where this was going, but it wasn't love. I was never go there again.

* * *

><p>Hi All! Are you reading this story? I don't think you are because no one's commenting! Please tell me your thoughts. I'm dying to know what others think about my story.<p>

*NOTE—That song that I used in the chapter was not of my creation. It was a Katy Perry song called "Lost". Look it up, it's a nice song. Beware, there will be more songs in this story!*


	5. Chapter 4: Eyes

**DISCLAIMER: **Peirce is my character and I really enjoy writing her. But Edward and Rosalie and Alice and the rest of those wonderful Cullen characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.

Chapter 4: Eyes 

It was too early for any normal human being to be awake, but of course I wasn't normal and here I was, sitting on the living room couch of mine and Anya's loft, wondering why I couldn't let myself settle into unconsciousness. Anya was still in her room, snoring softly and I was glad she was here and not with Eric for once. I'd never been good on my own in big empty places – like this one that she had decided we live in – and I've never been much of a sleeper— as a result of many past experiences which had taught me it's always best to be alert – but last night I'd slept less than usual, and seeing as I'd been up most the night in the dark, it was good that Anya had spent the night here with me and not left me to wallow in the darkness, letting my mind play tricks on me. But I think I might have been okay last night, because I didn't have space in my head to think about what was and wasn't real in my empty loft. I was preoccupied with more interesting, more provocative things. I couldn't get the man from the music store, and now one of my classes at Julliard, out of my mind.

It was amazing. First I meet this stranger at Beats, one who follows me around the store then continues to follow me even after I've left. I manage to forget about the strange guy, only to find him in my class at the college I'm attending. Both times the expression on his face telling me that I was a subject of interest to him. The chances had seemed slim to none of me finding him again, but I guess we were on the slim side of that equation.

Not trying to sound over-confident, but I was used to having males of all ages stare at me. I had experience with pickup lines and ass kissing and stares from across the room and assholes who tried to flaunt themselves like they were packing two baseballs and a bat to match. But the way Mr. Music Store looked at me was different. If it had been like the cocky jerks I was used to, I would have done what I usually do when guys tried to get at me and that was brush them off in a creatively bitchy way. After all, I wasn't interested in men who were only interested in one thing. Too many experiences there.

But this guy was different and it surprised me. He had the face of an arch angel, so amazing that it had almost _hurt_ me to look at him, and when I had first seen him looking at me, I'd expected to choke on all the male bravado I'd come to expect all amazing-looking guys to possess. But he didn't carry himself that way. He seemed honestly humble and modest, not something I saw in guys very much. Or ever.

And the way he looked at me. Not like I was a piece of meat, but not exactly like a human being either. More like I was an alien, like I was out of the ordinary and he was trying desperately to figure me out. He was probably the first person to really see that in me. He stared into my eyes like he had never seen a pair before. He stared like he was intrigued for whatever reason.

And I was intrigued as well because it's not like he was looking too normal either. There was something off about him, or maybe it was on, and not just his abnormal good looks, but about his eyes and about the way he stared into mine as if he was trying to take a peek inside my brain and was getting nowhere. The colour was nothing like I'd seen either. That luminous gold colour, like topaz. They were captivating and hypnotic, which was another reason I couldn't help but stare back when he was staring at me. And I couldn't really deny it to myself: for once in my life, I didn't mind the way a random stranger looked at me.

I also liked the look of his face and it wasn't because he was beautiful. Which he was. He was more perfect than anything could think of. I could tell that he was built under that leather jacket he had been wearing and could just imagine what those arms of his were like, not to mention the rest of his body. And then there was his face, which screamed perfection. His pale and perfect skin, that strong, masculine, chiseled jaw and those beautifully provocative lips. The bronze, dishevelled hair that fit his style so wonderfully. And of course, those hypnotic, gold eyes.

But like I said, it wasn't just because he was good looking. It was because there was a story there. I was very curious about him, I wondered about him. I was surprised that he caught my attention so fully. I had lived my life on the philosophy that trust only got you hurt, so I hardly ever trusted anyone. And to not trust people, you had to stay desensitized from them and not let them weave their way into your mind at whatever costs. For the most part, it was good to go by, and I had become extremely talented in keeping people out of my life. There were a few exceptions of course, like Anya and my birth parents, but they were rare beings and hard to come by.

Mr. Music Store was an exception and it went without saying that he was a rare being. He was on my mind. I wanted to know his name and why he looked at me the way he did and what had happened to him that gave him that vulnerable, yet somehow hard look in his eye. Why did he look so broken? I hadn't seen him enough to get his full life's story from his face alone, but I'd seen enough to recognize a fellow survivor in him. I wondered if his past could possibly be as horrid as mine.

Why did he find me so interesting? What was he thinking about when he was looking at me? Why had he followed me out of the music store that day? Why did he stare at me like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time?

And why the hell did he hold my interest so well? He was just a guy after all.

Man, what a lie that was. He wasn't "just a guy" and that was _so_ obvious.

It didn't matter anyways. I wasn't going to think about it anymore, and by "it", I meant him. He probably wasn't someone I could think about safely, meaning it would be easy to get wrapped up in thoughts of him and then I would make the mistake I getting to know him and fall into the trap of trusting him. After the first three foster homes I'd been in when I was three and four years old, I had learned not to do that. And also not to sleep.

"Hey," Anya yawned as she walked into the kitchen.

I looked at my best friend as she went for her favourite box of cereal, a navy blue box with a large Tony the Tiger on it, and poured herself some. Anya was one of the few people my strong barriers had been no match for. When I had moved in with my birth parents at the age of fifteen and gone to school in their town of Toronto, ON, I had done all I could to keep myself separated from the kids around me, convinced that all of them were stuck up rich kids who had never had a real challenge in their lives and wouldn't understand what it was like to truly struggle and suffer. But Anya, ever the clueless bobble-head as I'd referred to her upon first impressions, hadn't gotten the "leave me alone" message I'd been trying to send out. She sat with me at lunch in the cafeteria and sat with me during our free periods. She asked for my help on homework and she always wanted to be my partner on assignments. When I had asked her what her deal was, because people weren't this nice unless they wanted something, she said that all she wanted was to be friends? Friends? I'd thought. Why?

Turned out she wasn't the perfect princess I'd thought she was. She'd been in a car accident with her parents when she was five and had been the only one to survive, miracle of miracles. After living in foster homes for two years, the courts had finally been able to track down an aunt who she'd moved in with. She still had the scars from the accident. She was a survivor, just like me. The difference was that she had a much brighter outlook on the world.

Slowly, I'd grown to trust her. When she'd started texting me, I had texted back. When she invited me out, I went with her. She introduced me to people and gotten me into her "popular" click at school, pretty much forcing me to make friends, which surprisingly I had. If it wasn't for her, I probably would have stayed a reclusive freak forever.

We were opposites a lot of the time, yet we had a lot in common as well, the greatest being the arts. So when we'd both gotten into Julliard together, both of us for music, me for art, her for dance and drama, though I did all four, it had been a godsend.

She was one of my saving graces and she was always there for me. Of course things have been different ever since Eric, her boyfriend, had come into the picture six months ago and moved to New York with us, but I tried not to be too bitter about the fact that she was madly, tragically, and, in my opinion, stupidly and disgustingly in love. She was happy with Eric and she was still always there when I needed her.

She came to sit with me on the leather couch, careful not to spill her Frosted Flakes. "What's on the agenda for today," she asked.

"I have three classes today. I have to be there at noon and the second one you have to be there with me," I told her.

"Right." She was silent for a moment and knew a question was coming. "The guy you met at Beats the other day…" she started.

"Yeah?" I answered cautiously.

"He's the one in the composition class right?"

"Yeah that's him."

"What's his deal? Why does he look at you so… weird?" she asked.

"I wished I knew," I told her truthfully. "It's so strange."

"I think he likes you," she said playfully.

I scoffed. "He doesn't look at me like he likes me. It's more like he's examining a science experiment."

"Maybe you're reading him wrong."

"When do I ever read people wrong?" I asked skeptically.

"You read _me_ wrong," she said.

"_You're_ an exception," I explained.

"Maybe he is, too."

"I doubt it."

"He's perfect!" she exclaimed.

"He's_ too_ perfect. I bet he's the ultimate asshole."

"You won't know until you try him on for size," she said, wagging her eyebrows at me.

"You're disgusting," I told her. "And so what if he does like me? It's not worth anything, it's not like I'm going to go for him."

"Don't act like you're not attracted to him," she said, looking at me dubiously.

I sighed. I was a good liar, but there was rarely a point to lying to Anya. She saw right through me.

"See?" she bragged. "Told ya."

"It's not important. _Physically_, I'm attracted to him, and that means pretty much nothing to me."

"You're going to have to learn to trust someone, someday," she said, shaking her head.

"I trust people," I said, even though we both knew that was a lie. "I trust you."

"I'm an exception," she said, turning my words on me. "Give him a chance."

"No. Now go get ready for school."

She slurped up the last spoonful of Frosted Flakes. "Are you ever going to stop acting like such a mother?" she whined. "You're always taking care of me."

"Someone's got to," I told her. "Now go."

We spent about an hour getting ready, her in her girly, sunny clothes— a multi-coloured sundress, her blond hair curly today and a pair of high sandals— and me in my edgy garb – a small black blazer with grey cuffs, an old grey "Riot!" T-shirt from a Paramore tour from way back when, a dark pair of skinny jeans, and some spiky heeled platform shoes (not high enough to look slutty) and a messengers boy's cap turned backwards over my naturally wavy hair – and were out of there and into her silver SUV. The ride to Julliard was the usual, the music, her choice today since I chose yesterday, blaring and the September sun beating through the windows. She sang to her favourite Nina song, a newer artist who I wasn't quite fond of yet.

My first class was a visual art class, one for painting and drawing. I loved to draw. I loved it more than photography, though I did that too. I loved to just look at a scenery or a person and put my own detail into it and make it a creation of my own. I see pictures in my head sometimes, more like all the time, and a lot of the time the only way I was able to ease my restless mind was when I had a pencil or pen in my hand. It was the same way when I was writing a song or choreographing a dance. Taking my own thoughts and memories and tragedies and putting them on paper or in some sort of movememnt, whether in the form of a picture or in a lyric or dance, was really the only healthy way I was able to expel the pain that cropped up in my heart every once in a while.

The teacher, a young women with frizzy blond hair and a twangy Texas accent, lectured for a bit about how learning the basics and the essentials were important for becoming an artist, but then she said that we all already were artists and that she liked to rely more on passion and creativity and imagination and even sometimes spontaneity. So she told us to take out whatever we like to use to draw and get to it, just draw whatever comes to mind first.

I wasn't really paying attention to what I was doing. As my pencil trailed over the canvas without any real distinction of what I was doing. The only thing I could think about was that Mr. Music Store might very well be here somewhere in this college.

What classes was he taking? Did he do anything other than music? What kind of music did he like? And if he wasn't here, then where was he and what was he doing right now?

"Hello?" a voice questioned from beside me.

"Huh?"

The girl looked at me warily. "I asked if I could borrow that," she said, gesturing to the eraser.

"Oh, yeah," I said, shaking myself out of my funk. "Here."

"Thanks," she said brightly. "Where do you go?"

"Excuse me?" I asked. "What do you mean?"

"You zone out when you're drawing," she observed.

"Oh, uh I guess I do sometimes," I said honestly. There were times when I had a writing utensil in my hands, or when I was dancing, or a guitar on my lap and the whole world became less then background noise. Pretty weird how she picked up on that. "I'm not really sure where I go."

"Where ever it is, it works for you," she said appreciatively. "Those are beautiful."

I had no idea what she was talking about. Until I looked down to the canvas and the big notepad I was drawing in.

There, staring back at me, was a giant pair of eyes. A pair of eyes that were very familiar, that plagued my mind, and that should have been coloured gold. And I could imagine the expression, the curious, inquiring, confused expression that would be in them if I was seeing them in the face that they belonged to.

Oh jeez. Now I was subconsciously drawing him. Already I was obsessed and it had only been two days since I'd seen him first.

"Oh, thanks," I said in response to her.

"Are they anyone's in particular?" she asked hintingly, eyes on her own picture.

"Um…" I contemplated telling her who's they were, but how would I explain that? _Yes, they are someone's in particular. They belong to some guy I met at a music store two days ago. I caught him staring at me and then after I left the store a half hour later, I saw him following me still. Then I noticed that he was in one of my classes here yesterday. Instead of being freaked out at the_ _supposed stalker, I'm dying to see him again, because I'm curious about him, even though I know that sounds insane. _Not that I care what people thought, but there were enough people in the world who thought I was crazy and I wasn't interested in one more.

So I said, "No, just a pair of eyes."

"Well, they're great," she said earnestly.

And for some reason the compliment actually meant something to me. "Thanks." I looked at her drawing of what was a very beautifully detailed rose. "You're pretty great yourself. That rose is amazing."

"You think?" she asked, and not in a snotty, cocky, "I am the shit" way, but more like she was genuinely asking my honest opinion.

So I gave her my honest opinion. "Totally."

She smiled. "I haven't been drawing for long," she admitted. "Or at least it hasn't felt that long. So I'm surprised I even got into this place."

I eyed her picture again. "I'm not."

I was surprised how easily I was interacting with this stranger. Normally I would have given her my eraser and been done with her. To the other questions she started asking me, I would have given her short, dry answers until she got the point that I didn't want to talk to her. I was reclusive like that, not really interested in meeting new people, content to be by myself in a crowd, but I found conversation catching easily with her.

I continued on with it. "What got you started?"

She paused a bit, not looking at me but still at the rose. She picked up a pink pencil crayon and started colouring softly. "I lost a friend a while back. It took a while for me to find a way to deal with what I was feeling, but one day I picked up a pencil and started drawing… something I'd seen," she said, hesitating a bit at the end. "After I started making it a habit, things got a little better." She looked at me and brightened up. "What got you started?"

I shrugged, not really sure how to answer that. "I don't know. It's just something I've always done," I reflected. "It's kind of my soothing technique, too. Well this and music."

"Ah, so you're a musician, too."

I laughed at her now-understanding tone, as if something was just making sense to her. "Is that a problem?"

"No no. It's just that my whole family are musicians. I can't seem to get away from them, and by 'them' i mean"- she gave me a playfully reproachful look-"_your_ kind, if I try."

I laughed at her expression and she smiled in response.

"How many siblings do you have?" I wondered. "I have two, but they're young."

"I have one sister, two brothers and then my mate," she explained.

Her mate? That's odd. But I didn't call her out on it. "And they're all musicians? Really?"

"Every one of them. My sister is into drama and theatre as well, but she also runs with their music fixation. See this," she said, holding up a red pencil crayon she'd been using, "They don't know what one of these are unless they can't get to a pencil fast enough to write down a guitar chord."

I laughed at that.

"I'm the only who signed up for these kinds of classes, the only visually- artsy one."

"Do they all go here?" I asked, bewildered.

"Uh-huh."

"Wow. Talented family. It must be great to have them all with you. Are you guys close?"

"Rock solid," she said, but there was catch in her voice, and she said something else, something incredibly low that I don't think I was supposed to here, but sounded a lot like, "At least we used to be."

Maybe she didn't like to give out information about herself and her family, either. I could respect, that I felt the same way about pretty much every aspect of my life.

"That's really nice that you all have each other to support one another here. I've got my best friend here so we rely a lot on each other."

"You're lucky to have her," the girl said, but her voice sounded just a tad remorseful.

She turned her canvas to me. "What do you think?" she asked.

The rose was beautiful. It was drawn face up, so that if you were looking at a real rose, you could see every petal blooming from it. It was drawn with exquisite care, all delicate lines at one point, then sharper ones at another. She used the two colours, red and pink, to distinguish light and darkness, as if the red parts were supposed to distinguish the shadows the petals were throwing.

"It's beautiful," I said, awe struck.

Almost as beautiful as the girl who had drawn it.

This girl was a total knockout, more beautiful than any girl I'd seen before. In fact, she was so perfect, she looked photo-shopped. She had short raven brown hair that hung in subtle layers down to her chin, flipping out just slightly at the ends. Her skin was almost as pale as the snow that fell during the harsh Canadian winters that I was so used to. All of her features were perfectly proportioned, her lips the perfect size to fit her face, her nose just small enough, her eyes a perfect length apart. And she had wonderful check bones, they shaped her face beautifully.

But what caught me most were her eyes. They were almond shaped and framed by thick lashes, and they looked old, centuries old. And… wise, wise as if she's seen so much and knows the world's workings as a result. And the colour was something else, a beautiful shade of gold.

I'd only seen beauty like that on one other person. The eyes as well.

I instantly thought of my mystery guy. The eyes were so similar, it was shocking. Were they related? Was he one of her two brothers?

"You wouldn't happen to know…." I trailed off, not sure how to really ask her. I was about to describe him to her but decided against it.

"Hm?"

"Never mind," I said quickly.

"Okay," she said, sounding confused, but letting it drop anyways.

Just then the professor told us it was about time to pack up, but to leave our work out so she could come get a feel of our art styles.

She turned to me abruptly. "What is your name?" she asked.

"Peirce."

Her eyes widened, and for a split second, a look of total astonishment came onto her face, but it was gone literally as soon as it came.

"You're Peirce," she whispered. I nodded. "I do see it. It makes total sense," she said, sounding like she was talking e to herself instead of me.

"What does?" I whispered, because she was confusing the hell out of me.

"Nothing, it's just… wow. You're Peirce."

"You just said that. And yes, I am." I looked at her inquisitively. "Do we know each other?" Did she know Mr. Music Store after all? And if she did, did he tell her about me? Was that why she started acting weirder than she already had been?

"No you don't know me," she said, but her eyes studied me like I was someone she either hasn't seen in years or has heard a lot about and was excited to meet.

It made me feel exposed. I _hated _that feeling.

"Is something wrong?" I asked self-consciously. What was with these perfect, pale people looking at me so strangely?

"Nothing's _wrong_ exactly."

"Then why are you looking at me like that?" I demanded slightly.

"No reason, really," she said with a shrug. Her eyes made it back to mine. "You're very beautiful," she stated. "Do you know that?"

Coming from her, that was compliment of the ages, and I didn't think I compared to her at all. "Thank you," I said accepting her compliment, a little surprised and impressed at her forwardness. "So are you."

She laughed and it sounded like pure silver bells ringing in the wind. "Thanks."

"Are you going to tell me your name?" I asked.

She smiled. "One second."

Just then the teacher, Ms. Allan, turned her head from the student she'd been talking to and called to us from across the room. "Are you girls ready?" she asked.

That was weird. "Yes." How had she known that Ms. Allan was coming to us next?

Ms. Allan was very impressed with our work, and I got the quick tip that she was a very enthusiastic teacher. It took her forever to stop singing our praises and leave.

"Your name?" I asked when she was finally gone.

"I'm Alice," she told me.

"Alice," I repeated, to remember, surprised that I wanted to remember a name. Normally I just discarded the people who introduced themselves to me.

Alice…

I put my large drawing pad in my messenger bag and finished packing up.

"You're kind of strange, Alice," I said, never one not to speak my mind.

That tinkling laugh sounded again. "Yeah, I've heard that before," she said, zipping up her own bag. "I'll see you around, okay?"

"Every other day, right here."

It was silent as I finished packing up my things, but then the silver voice called my name again.

"Peirce?" she said. I turned around to see her paused at the door. "I'm really glad I met you," she said earnestly.

I smiled at her. Really smiled. "I'm glad I met you, too."

She smiled on more time, and then the bell rang, signaling it's time for us to move on, and she was gone.

As I walked out of the emptying classroom and made my way through the crowded halls, I found that I really was happy to have met Alice today.

I left the art building and made it across the campus to the drama building for my performance class which I shared with Anya.

That class passed with very little significance, except for the fact the blond girl, the one who had been sitting beside Mr. Music Store yesterday, the heavenly looking one with gorgeous blond hair, perfect figure, and (of course) those mesmerizing gold tinted eyes, just _happened_ to be there.

This was getting out of control.

She was staring too, though I tried to pretend that I didn't notice. Her stare was different from Mr. Music Store's and Alice's: he stared at me curiously and Alice looked at me with awe in her eyes. Blondie looked mad. Not just mad, but furiously enraged. Like she was ready to strangle me if she got the chance.

What the fuck was up with her? What had I done to gain these strangers' interest?

I was pretty certain at this point that this was Alice's sister and since she had been sitting with Mystery Guy yesterday, they must know him, too. Maybe he was one of their brothers.

It was astounding. Of all the classes to choose from, I get stuck with these abnormal gawkers who have a random fixation on me and who are encouraging me to become fixated with them. The more time I spent with them, the more interesting they became, it seemed.

I was happy when the bell rang and that class was over because it meant that I could escape Blondie's murderous stare. I wasn't afraid of her, though with that hateful look on her stunning face she looked threatening enough; I had spent my life being afraid of certain people and had recently learned not to be afraid and not to let it run my life. I was happy to get away from her because she was creeping me out and if she glared at me like that one more time I was going to lose it on her.

I walked to my next class, thankful it was the last of the day and that it was a music class. I needed a good dose of octaves and chords to help clear my head. It had been an extremely mentally strenuous day and with the way it was continuing, I wouldn't be surprised to walk into the next class and see you-know-who.

I got to the class, walked through the door, and stopped dead at the door.

Well speak of the devil. I had to jinx it, didn't I?

God really didn't exist, I thought. Either that or he was real and he had a _really_ sick sense of humor.

And judging from the stories of my life, the second option was probably right.

* * *

><p>Hey, my lovelies! What did you think of this chapter? I am begging you to tell me. If you are reading this story and have anything to say about it, please do. If you like it, then you should comment, because I'm getting the sense that no one like's it :'( and if that's the case then I won't continue it. So comment if you're into it. PLEASE!<p> 


	6. Chapter 5: Challenge

**A/N: **Hey all! Just want to apologize for that long, long wait for this chapter. I just wanted to warn you that there will be another song in this chapter. If you choose to read the lyrics and look up the song, try imagining it as played solely on the piano. It's called "Home" by Michael Buble.

DISCLAIMER: Edward is my one true love. I love him. Truly. And the rest of the Cullens as well. But none of them belong to me, unfortunately. They belong to Stephenie Meyer. I guess I will settle for loving and having Peirce belong to me.

Chapter 5: Challenge

For the love of all that was holy! Was there no peace to be had? Was there no moment of tranquility? Clearly not, because if there was, my Jane Doe would not be standing in the door way of my class, smelling as luscious as ever, tormenting me more.

I couldn't catch a break, could I? Here I am, sitting in the classroom, waiting for the professor to start the lesson, content with my brothers here with me, and _she_ walks in. Of all the classes to have now, she took this one. She took the class that _I_ was in. Again.

It didn't help that I was happy that she was here. I'd been thinking about her ever since our class together yesterday, when I'd heard her sing her song in front of everyone. The way her voice had made me feel, the way her ocean, sapphire eyes had looked straight through me.

I'd been dying to see her again.

But as happy as I was that she was here, I was also on edge. She smelt too good. She looked too beautiful. She was too fascinating. She was altogether too enticing.

As I noticed her, she noticed me. She walked to a seat in the room, her eyes on me the whole time, only compelling me to stare at her more. It was dangerous that I was happy that she seemed as interested in me as I was in her.

I felt her warmth as she neared me and I had to grind my fingers into the seat so that I didn't jump her then and there. I kept praying for her to keep walking, just go a little further so I could maybe take a breath, but as fate would have it, she stopped and sat in the seat directly in front of me.

"What is your problem?" Emmett demanded in a whisper too low for any of the humans to hear.

"That's the _singer_," I replied through clenched teeth. I wasn't breathing, through my nose at least, but her essence seemed to be in the air and as it slid through my tight mouth and onto my tongue, I could taste her, and it was the most delicious tasting pain in the world.

"God damn it," Jasper groaned, inaudible to the humans. "Let's get you out of here," he suggested.

"No," I said, maybe a little too passionately. I wasn't running from her.

"Edward, don't be an idiot," Jasper snapped. "It's safer if you—"

"I can handle her," I growled. "This is nothing I haven't experienced before. If I could handle drinking from… Bella—" I stuttered a little over her name—"then I can get through sitting behind her."

"You're sure?" Emmett asked.

I nodded. "I can do this," was my determined reply.

Damn it, she made it hard though. It was impossible to pay attention to what the professor was saying with her so close to me.

I studied the back of her head, trying to pick something up from her thoughts again, but frustratingly getting nothing. What was thinking? Had she sat in front of me purposefully? Was she as interested in me as I was in her? Did she think about me when we weren't around each other?

Since I couldn't get anything from her head, I tried to decipher more about her from what I could see physically. It was true that she was a stunning human. As I had observed the last time I'd seen her, she had a face that was pure and genuine and delicate, like an angel, but the way she presented herself suggested otherwise. She was dressed in dark colours, wearing an old band t-shirt with a black blazer over it. The dark with which she covered herself clearly suggested some trouble within her life, but it wasn't as if I couldn't already tell that by the beautiful, incredible depth in her eyes. I wondered what tragedies had plagued her life to make her sapphire, ocean like eyes so expressive.

Moments after the teacher started talking, she pulled out the same red headphones from the day I met her, and a small sketch pad.

She was an artist as well as a musician. A rather good one from what I could see. Curiosity burned almost as much as the thirst did. What did she like to draw? Why did she draw? Was it for the same reasons as Alice, as a comfort technique, or just a random hobby? What did she see in her head before she put a pencil to paper?

_Staring at her probably isn't helping_, Emmett thought in amusement. I ignored him.

As if she had the same ability as I did and knew we were all thinking about her, her head rose, and she turned to look at me.

My entire body froze. She had the same effect on me as the mythical Medusa: stare into her eyes, and you turned to stone. Maybe she was one and that was why she was so abnormal. Vampires were real, so what's to say Medusa wasn't? Only this girl was too beautiful to be a snake-haired gorgon.

She pulled her headphones off the same way she had the first and only time we spoke.

Not that I'd been breathing to begin with, it seemed like I'd tensed up even more when she opened her mouth to speak.

"Are you sure there's nothing I can do for you?" she asked.

I nodded like a moron, not wanting to take the chance in talking and in turn breathing in her sent.

Her eyes narrowed skeptically. "Really? There's nothing you need from me?"

_Other than your blood? _I shook my head again.

"And we don't know each other?"

Another refusal on my part.

"Is there any particular reason you won't talk to me?" she demanded slightly.

I took a deep—proverbial—breath and answered her. "Why do you think I need anything from you?" Damn, that burned. She smelt _so_ good.

She gave me a look as if to say _are you serious?_ "Oh, so I must be invisible then, and when I think you're staring at me, you're really just staring into space."

Emmett smirked and the teacher started talking again.

"I apologize if I've made you feel uncomfortable," I said earnestly.

"You can make it up to me by explaining what your problem is—"

"It seems we have two volunteers," the professor said at the front of the room.

The girl's head whipped around to the front of the room. The man was talking to us.

"Yes, I mean the two of you," he said. A quick scan of his mind told me that he had been talking about the technical side of music, seeing as this was what the class was for, and we were to start by examining the type of music we enjoyed. He'd been asking for volunteers to demonstrate for us, and obviously he was making an example out of us for not paying attention to his lesson by volunteering us himself.

"Excuse me?" she said.

"One of you is going to demonstrate for us," he explained. "I'm guessing that since both of you were speaking during my lesson, both of you have it all figured out. So please. Show the rest of us how it's done."

"You're serious?" she demanded. Gutsy little girl.

He addressed the rest of the students. "Class, does it look like I'm not serious?"

There was no response.

He turned his attention back to the two of us, not that it had ever really left. "I don't know what you think this is, but I'd like to inform you that it is _not _high school, and I won't tolerate any such behavior in my class. So one of you, please, show us how it's done," he commanded, annunciating the last part.

Every person in the room—including my brothers— went silent and turned to dart their eyes between me and the girl.

And the girl turned to stare at me.

"Go on," she said, loud and clear.

I gaped at her. "Why can't you—"

"I went yesterday," she reminded me.

I could tell by staring into her hard, no-nonsense eyes that I would not be able sway her to go in my place. I could tell that this was her way of giving back all the discomfort she must've been feeling by my gawking by making me an object of intention. She was challenging me; I could see it in the expression she wore on her face.

But then it changed and she smiled at me, a deliberately fake, sugary sweet smile.

"Go on," she said again, a little more commanding.

I glared at her for a moment, before getting up and walking to the front of the classroom. I could tell even without my ability that the professor, the pretentious bastard, was overly pleased with himself.

I sat at the grand piano that was at the front of the room—it seemed like every classroom had one—and contemplated what I would play. Peirce obviously would be watching and, foolishly maybe, I wanted to impress her. God knows I found her amazing yesterday. I wanted her to have the same reaction to me that I had to her.

This feeling, the feeling of determination to be up to expectations, brought with it an accompanying emotion of anguish that I could not help but be swallowed by. The last time I had felt this way was the first time I had played for Bella.

It had been the first time I'd taken her home to meet the rest of my family, and I think I was about as nervous as she had been. I'd known my family would never do anything to hurt her, but what if she saw something, or realized something that made her understand exactly what she was walking into when it came to being in a relationship with me? Would she run from me? I'd fretted.

But when she and Esme had insisted that I play for her, I had something else to worry about and that had been impressing her. It may have been irrational and silly, but I wanted to charm her, to win her with whatever talent I may have had.

Sitting here now brought back the memory.

_Edward!_ Jasper shouted from his head. _Get it together. Don't think about her._

Jasper may not be able to tell the reasons for the emotions he read and felt off of other people, but he knew me well enough to know that only one thing could cause me sorrow of this magnitude.

And since he knew me well enough to know the reasons for my anguish, he should have also known that once I started thinking about Bella, there was no getting away from memories of her.

And there I knew what to perform.

It was one of my own songs, one I had written during the then-thought hardest time of my existence. It was when I had tried to leave Bella after her disastrous birthday, when I'd been completely on my own.

With one final thought to my Bella, I started to play.

The notes flew freely from my fingers as they started to glide over the black and white ivory. It was a breeze, thanks to my perfect recall.

Then I started to sing.

_Another summer day__  
><em>_Has come and gone away__  
><em>_In Paris and Rome__  
><em>_But I want to go home__  
><em>_Mmmmmmmm_

_May be surrounded by__  
><em>_A million people I__  
><em>_Still feel all alone__  
><em>_I just want to go home__  
><em>_Oh I miss you, you know_

_And I've been keeping all the letters that I wrote to you__  
><em>_Each one a line or two__  
><em>_"I'm fine baby, how are you?"__  
><em>_Well I would send them but I know that it's just not enough__  
><em>_My words were cold and flat__  
><em>_And you deserve more than that_

_Another aerorplane__  
><em>_Another sunny place__  
><em>_I'm lucky I know__  
><em>_But I want to go home__  
><em>_Mmmm, I've got to go home_

_Let me go home__  
><em>_I'm just too far from where you are__  
><em>_I want to come home_

_And I feel just like I'm living someone else's life__  
><em>_It's like I just stepped outside__  
><em>_When everything was going right__  
><em>_And I know just why you could not__  
><em>_Come along with me__  
><em>_But this was not your dream__  
><em>_But you always believe in me_

_Another winter day has come __and gone away__  
><em>_And even Paris and Rome__  
><em>_And I want to go home__  
><em>_Let me go home_

_And I'm surrounded by__  
><em>_A million people I__  
><em>_Still feel alone__  
><em>_Oh, let go home__  
><em>_Oh, I miss you, you know_

_Let me go home__  
><em>_I've had my run__  
><em>_Baby, I'm done__  
><em>_I gotta go home__  
><em>_Let me go home__  
><em>_It will all right__  
><em>_I'll be home tonight__  
><em>_I'm coming back home_

As the song ended, I felt like I should have tears falling from my eyes. If I had only gone home sooner…

I barely noticed the class erupt into applause.

_Way not to think about her,_ Jasper criticized.

I could read the impression I had left on every person in the room from their minds and apparently it was a very good. Even the Pretentious Bastard was impressed by my performance though he tried to play it off like I wasn't anything special to him.

"Nice work," he said calmly, with only minute praise in his voice.

Yes, every human in the room had thoroughly enjoyed the show, but I only really cared about what one person thought of my performance.

I looked to where Peirce was sitting and since, of course, her thoughts were mute to me, I could only try to gauge her reaction from her physical appearance.

What was she thinking?

She looked impressed, though only minutely. I wondered if she really liked what I just did and was being stand-offish or if she thought I was merely okay.

Then Emmett leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"What do you think?" he asked casually.

"He's good," she commented, eyes still on me. "Really good. He's actually great."

The satisfaction that welled in me was as irrational as me wanting her to like what I did.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the class, and with one final stare at me, she was walking to the door without a backward glance.

I hurried after her, ignoring the thoughts Jasper directed towards me, the ones that went along the lines of _"That's_ really _not a good idea, Edward." _

"Hey!" I yelled after her, not sure why I had to get her attention. It would make a lot more sense for me to distance myself from her as much as possible.

She didn't slow down at all to give me time to catch up to her, not that that stopped me from doing so. I fought through the other human bodies, ignoring the thoughts of everyone.

When I was next to her, she didn't even look at me. "So you can talk to me now?" she demanded, a little irked.

"I want to apologize for my strange behavior," I told her.

"I would hardly call your behavior strange," she said.

It was probably better that she didn't look at me. I was already distracted by the aroma of her tantalizing blood, and I was relishing what the sound of her voice did to all the others around us, and the way her body radiated a beautiful warmth that made me want to sink my teeth into her throat all the more. If I had the added befuddlement of her eyes on me, I wasn't sure I would be able to hold myself back from her.

I was really walking on thin ice right now. The beast that had come back to life in the pit of my stomach begged and pleaded that I forget about all the surrounding humans and take her blood and her life now.

"You gawk at me every time you see me as if I'm some sort of science experiment, follow me around a music store, and then 'accompanied' me out," she continued. "That's not 'strange'. That's straight up stalker-ish." She stopped abruptly and turned to face me. Her eyes were still hard and still beautiful.

"I know," I said.

"And I'd say 'take a picture,' just so you'd stop staring, because really it's kinda creeping me out, but it would creep me out more if I had to think about you with a picture of me."

"I'm sorry."

"So what's your deal?" she demanded. "Why do you act the way you do around me?"

How to answer that one. I wasn't even sure of the answer myself. "I don't really know how to answer that question."

"Try," she commanded.

"I guess you just… interest me," I finally got out.

She nodded once slowly. "I interest you," she repeated slowly.

I didn't answer.

"'You interest me.' Not 'I'm interested _in_ you." She shook her head. "Still feeling like a science experiment. You really know how to charm a girl." At that, she turned around and continued on. I went after her.

"Would you like me to be interested in you?" I asked, slightly perplexed by her train of thought. Didn't she just imply a moment ago that it was annoying having me stare at her?

"That's not what I said," she replied.

"So what are you saying?" I asked.

"That I'm used to people saying 'I'm interested _in_ you,' not '_by_ you.'"

"You've got a bit of an ego," I noted.

"Just speaking from experience."

"Again: egotistical."

She sighed. "Is there somewhere else you should be?"

"No," I said. "I'm done for the day."

"So in your spare time, you choose to follow me," she said ironically.

"I want to know your name," I told her bluntly.

"If I've got an ego, then you're arrogant," she countered. "Let's pretend that you don't _already_ know my name. What if I don't want you to know my name? I don't know yours. I only know you as Mr. Music Store."

"Isn't that a coincidence. To me, you're Jane Doe," I told her.

"Cute," she said curtly. "Very creative."

"You should talk."

"Arrogant," she pointed out in a sing-song voice.

"What is your name?" I asked her again.

"You already know it," she said, sounding a bit confused and also a little annoyed.

"Yes, but—" I stepped in front of her, blocking her path—"I want to hear it from your mouth. I want you to introduce yourself to me."

"Why?" she asked, sounding perplexed.

"I told you: you interest me." It was the best explanation I could give her. "Here, I'll start; I'm Edward. And you are..." I left the end open for her to fill in the blank.

She stared at me for a moment, before answering in an aloof, coy manner with, "You already know my name."

I couldn't help but smile a bit, a real smile, something that I was so unfamiliar with after so much time. A challenge. She was a challenge as well as a mystery, even more so than the last _singer_.

"Edward," she repeated quietly. "This is the second time today that I've said this to someone, but you're kind of strange. You know that, right?"

I smiled a little wider. "Just strange? I thought I was stalker-ish."

She smiled a bit at that. "Maybe I'll forgive you for that," she granted. She started walking again, still facing me. "I'll see you around, Edward." She didn't wait for a response from me before turning around and continuing away from me.

_Yes, you will_, I thought. Then I wondered why that was, why I looked forward to seeing this girl "around".

I was thoughtful as I went to where we had parked my car this morning, knowing all my siblings were done with their classes by now and probably waiting for me.

I was also feeling a bit accomplished. For one thing, I hadn't played in front of a true audience in God only knew how long. Plus, I'd succeeded in having a half decent conversation with her without ripping her neck open.

She wasn't just human, that one. She was more. The way she handled herself, the way she spoke with such dignity and self-possession. Those weren't normal characteristics of a girl her age. And she thought I was strange?

Not to mention the way she smelt. Nothing that luscious smelling could be anything but an instrument designed for my own personal destruction. Lord knows the last time hadn't completely done the job, though it felt like it had. Maybe the second time was the charm.

I was at the car by now, and as expected, the rest of my family was there waiting for me. I climbed in wordlessly.

"It's just your luck, isn't it Edward?" Emmett said as soon as we were in motion, "to have the _singer_ in two of your classes." He laughed a little.

I'd never understood how Emmett could find such amusement in my discomfort.

"I'm sorry, Edward, I didn't even see it," Alice apologized earnestly.

"It's not your fault," I told her, meaning it.

"I don't think he's having too much difficulty," Jasper pointed out. "He followed her out of class, trying to talk to her."

"You followed her?" Rose hissed.

"Is that a problem?" I asked.

She sputtered over what she was about to say, then started again. "You mean other than the fact that you could have killed her, blowing any semblance of normalcy we have and uprooting our family again?"

"I didn't kill her," I said through gritted teeth.

"But the possibility was there," she shot back. "When are you going to stop being so irresponsible?"

I was about to retort but Emmett jumped in sooner. "Actually, Rose, he seemed to be handling it well. He sat right behind her for a good two hours and a bit without making one move. He even talked to her a little."

"So this time he was okay," she allowed grudgingly. "But what about the next time you see her? The slightest movement from her could set you off." She snapped her fingers. "That's how quick it would be for you to kill her and ruin everything. Just. Like,"—she snapped her singers again—"That. That's the length of time it would take for you to destroy our family."

_More than you already have_, she tacked on mentally.

"I'm sorry to say it, but Rose is probably right," Jasper commented. "The smartest, most responsible thing for you to do is drop all the classes you have with her and try your best to avoid her."

"That's a shame," Emmett said with mock-pity in his voice. "I kind of like her."

"I like her, too," Alice said conversationally.

I tried my best not to let my eyes avert from the road, not that I needed to look at it to know where I was going. It's just that New York was a much bigger place, with many more drivers who would notice if I turned around to gawk at my passengers.

"What do you mean you 'like her, too,'?" I demanded.

"She was in one of my V. Arts classes, the Techniques in Drawing one," she told us. "She's pretty cool. I didn't notice it was her until the end of the class when she told me her name."

"You talked to her. And she talked to you," I stated, a little stunned.

"Yes Edward, that is what happened. It's not a problem for me to know her because I'm not tempted to kill her."

"Though she does have an appealing flavour to her," Emmett pointed out.

I couldn't help the growl that slipped out at that.

"Easy, Edward," he laughed. "I'm just pointing out the obvious."

I caught a thought coming from the snarky Rosalie's mind. She'd had a class with the girl too, a performing arts class.

"I'm going to risk exposure?" I demanded pointedly, my eyes seeking Rosalie's in the rear view mirror. "I think you're doing just as horrible a job of keeping our existence under wraps as I am. Staring at her with murder in your eyes is not going to help anything." _In fact it only pisses me off_, I thought.

"Like Alice said: It doesn't matter what I do around her. I'm not tempted to kill her," she retorted.

"You're lying," I snapped. I caught the drift of her thoughts. She was thinking that if she eliminated the threat of exposure, i.e. my attraction to Peirce's blood, then we would have no problem here. Of course she wasn't truly serious about killing her—yet—but it was something she'd considered.

She sighed. "Okay, I'm not tempted to kill her the same way you are."

Well that was great. How was I supposed to stay away from her when I had to think about my family being around her all the time—when I couldn't be—and some of them planning her death?

My hands cranked down on the steering wheel.

"Edward, don't worry," Alice said in a snide tone directed at Rosalie. "Rose isn't going to do anything to hurt her."

I didn't respond.

"And all of you can stop worrying," she added on. "I see this all working out."

"Is that so?" I muttered. I tried to see what she saw, but she was doing a pretty good job of hiding what she was truly thinking from me. "What's going on, Alice?" I asked suspiciously.

"Just trust me, Edward," she said cryptically. "Everything will be fine."

We were at our apartment by now, and there was no more talking as we went up to our penthouse and off to our separate activities.

I wasn't dropping my classes with Peirce. I wasn't going to give up the only thing that actually gave me a sense of life. She was interesting and intriguing and she took my mind off the burning agony I would be forever plagued with.

My family was right that I shouldn't take the risk of being around her. But they were also right that I wanted to be happy. "Happy" was never going to happen for me ever again. But that didn't mean that I had to be stuck in a hole of misery either. If I could find brief moments of slight ease with Peirce, why would I turn that down? I could handle the blood lust, as I've proven in the past. Besides there were other things about her that I would distract myself with when around her, like trying to pick her mind, or succumbing to the sound of her melodic voice, or getting lost in her sapphire, ocean blue eyes.

It would be a challenge to get to know her, I knew that already. She wouldn't be easy to crack and it would definitely take effort to get her to trust me. Definitely a challenge. But a challenge might be exactly what I need to distract myself.

I would not stay away from her. Because suffering the burn of the thirst was a thousand times better than suffering the burn of missing my Bella.

Thinking along those lines brought back the memories of when I had thought this way last. It had been when I had just met Bella. That line of logic had been what led me to falling in love with her.

I was thankful, though, that this time I didn't have to worry about that.

* * *

><p>Okay, so here we go again. Me begging for responses, no one answering my calls. But I'm gonna keep begging anyway. Please, <em>please, <em>PLEASE comment if you're reading it and have any opinions. Like I said, I'm begging. :'(


	7. Chapter 6: Anchor

**Disclaimer**: I'm a happy person who only has one dread in her life, and that would be that these magnificent characters whom I love so much, excluding the wonderful Peirce, do not belong to me. *Sad face*

Chapter 6: Anchor

Days went by and I didn't talk to Peirce again. She seemed to be going to lengths to stay away from me, always getting to class after me and sitting on the other end of room and being the first one out as soon as the bell went. She didn't talk to me any other times and she paid me no mind, as if she'd forgotten about all our previous encounters.

I had to admit that it was a bit frustrating and hurtful. She pretended like I didn't exist, like I wasn't anything special for her to think about, when I couldn't seem to forget about her. And it was especially annoying to have her pretending I don't exist when she seemed to have no problem interacting with Alice. She was in her thoughts and as the days went by, I could see that they had a friendship growing, one that Alice was already fond of. She thought a lot about her, about the conversations they had, about how much she loved the clothes that she wore, and how much they did or didn't have in common. It wasn't fair and it was increasingly irritating.

The more she ignored me, the more curious and frustrated I got. I did my best to follow her in the thoughts of those around her, but it was harder than it had been with Bella; at least with her I'd known where she was going to be and who was with her. At Julliard, Peirce was a lot harder to find with so many more humans in one area. At first the only time I could find her was when one of my family members was with her. But after a little while I was able to recognize different professors and students and when they would be with her and how to find her.

All this mental stocking just made me more aware of the kind of person that Peirce was. I could see that she was a very concentrated, very focused person when she was in her classes, and that she was a very good friend, as I could see whenever she was with a certain girl named Anya, but Anya was where she drew the line the line when it came most other people. It was a little comforting that her whole difficult-to-get-to-know characteristic was really apart of whom she was and not just a natural reaction she had to me. In all the time I`d spent watching her, I'd seen others, boys and girls alike, try to get to know her and she didn't have the slightest inkling of interest to even learn their names. One boy had sat beside her in the composing and writing class I shared with her. One quick scan of his thoughts told me that he had been watching her for a while and was interested in her. He and his friends made a bet that he couldn't "get her into bed" in a week. It had made me mad at the time, but my anger was soothed when she didn't even look at him once the whole time.

Even though it was clear that she wasn't just reluctant to get to me personally, I still wanted her to see me as different from the rest of the people who made advances on her. I wanted her let me into her secret mind for a while, because she was always in mine. I wished that she was as eager to speak to me again as I was to her, but clearly she wasn't. I wished I could approach her but I was worried that if I advanced on her any further, than it would really help set her resolve to steer clear of me. That was counterproductive to what I wanted. No, if she was going to talk to me again, then she would have to be the first to initiate a conversation. I just hoped it would be soon.

While I waited around for her, I realized that the burn she caused me to feel never lessened, but it was becoming more and more bearable. I'd stopped holding my breath around her, trying to get used to her delectable scent so I could pursue some form of a relationship with her. Every day it got a little easier.

It was a nice relief to be obsessing over Peirce, where there was no pain, just mild agitation and curiosity, then to be wallowing and in despair over another special human girl. Though reflecting on the lengths I was going to just to glimpse of a person reminded me of the last time I'd been so consumed with another's being brought back the painful sense of déjà vu again, it was a welcome distraction from the other thoughts about the past.

I was only miserable when I was at home. Then I can't see Peirce and I am surrounded by things and people that reminded me of my lost love. Like Esme and how motherly she'd always been towards Bella. Or I saw all the times Carlisle had patched up her many injuries when he was around. I remembered every argument Alice and Bella had ever gotten into about the clothes in Bella's closet that Alice didn't like and the shopping trips that Bella didn't want to go on. When I heard Emmett laugh, every joke at Bella's expense came back to mind.

So I found myself anticipating every dawn and when it was time to go to school. Again the feelings were familiar.

It was about two weeks after college had started, mid-September, and I was at home, playing at the piano. I had two songs in particular stuck in my head, one was "My Heart" the other was "Lost", the song Peirce had sung on the first day. I knew it was annoying Rose that I was playing the second because it meant that I wasn't going to listen to her no matter what she said.

I wished that Peirce was here so I could listen to her sing the song again. I had perfect recall of what her voice sounded like, but somehow it wasn't the same without her actual physical presence.

_Have you ever been so lost  
>Known the way and still so lost<em>

The song played over and over in my head as I tried to replicate it into a piano piece.

I was blocking out the other sounds around me— like Emmett and Jasper shouting at the T.V. because of whatever sport they were watching and the whirring of Alice's sewing machine— and the heavy storm raging outside. It had been miserable outside the whole day, the ominous clouds out to hide the sun and the rain starting to fall late afternoon. While this kind of weather was welcome during the sunlight hours because it made life a little easier for my family, during the evening and night, it was an inconvenience. For one thing, the women had planned on hunting tonight and now that was postponed so they all weren't in the most pleasant moods. And the heavy rain reminded me of Forks.

It was one more thing for me to block out while I worked, just like the surrounding thoughts of my family. But every so often, despite my best efforts to give them privacy, I slipped up.

Like right now. Alice, on the second floor, was having a vision and I was immediately sucked in with her when I saw the subject matter. It was about Peirce. She was out driving, why she was operating a car in this weather was beyond me. I could see that she was in the middle of pretty much nowhere, another thing that had me confused.

But the point to the vision was coming up. Alice and I could see that she just seconds away from getting stuck in a ditch and being stranded in the middle of the forest. For hours.

I only wondered why Alice had seen this for a second—was she watching Peirce and that was why she showed up in her visions? If that was the case, then why?—before I was running at my speed to get my keys.

Alice was beside me in the next second.

"I'm guessing you saw it, too?" she said.

"I'm going to get her," I said, leaving no room for argument.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asked, following me to the door. "Being in such a small space with her could—"

"I'll be fine," I said, dismissing the comment.

"Doing what?" Rosalie interjected.

I wasn't planning on answering her, but apparently Alice was.

"Peirce is going to get stuck somewhere, and Edward is adamant about going to get her," she explained.

The sounds of the T.V. got cut off. Esme came to join us.

"Are you _serious?_" Rosalie nearly screeched.

I sighed. "Nothing will happen."

"You're going to go to her, sit with her in a car, and spend God knows how long alone with her?" she demanded. "That's a horrible idea, Edward."

"Yeah, Edward, I gotta agree," Emmett intervened before I could snap back at her. "You'll be alone with her, with nothing to stop you if you get…overwhelmed."

"And we know you don't want to kill her," Jasper added.

"You're right, I don't want to kill her," I agreed. "So I won't. I'll pick her up, bring her back where she needs to be, and come back to where I need to be."

"Edward, putting yourself in the way of temptation is not going to help you," Esme said softly. "Think of how you'll feel if you do something to hurt her."

"I know, Esme," I said to her. "But I also know that I can handle her."

"And if you can't?" Alice asked. "Are you going to risk her life on your shaky self-control? What if you can't handle her?"

"Then he'll kill her," Rosalie said simply, flatly. "And if he's going to kill her, now would be the time," she pointed out. "She's all alone, no one around to see you, and nothing to connect you to her if she disappears." Rosalie looked me dead in the eye. "Maybe we should let him go. And if he kills her now, then there won't be anytime better than now—"

"Rose—" Esme interrupted.

"And if he lets her live," she said, pretending Esme hadn't spoken, "then we know he can handle being around her." She looked me in the eye, as if challenging me. All she said before walking away was, "Go on, Edward."

We were silent for a while, all of us shocked at Rosalie's harsh indifference, before I turned and made for the door.

"Edward," Jasper called out. "I can feel that you're not one hundred percent about yourself. Are you sure you're okay to risk this?"

"Alice, what do you see?" I demanded of her.

"I don't see you killing her tonight," she allowed slowly. "But it's not clear. Your resolve is strong now, but you're not around her yet. It could change at any moment."

"I'm going to be okay," I told them.

Esme looked worried. She knew what was going on when it came to me and Peirce. She knew it would hurt me if something happened to her. She was worried about the extra depression that awaited me if I had to live with the knowledge that I had killed my one source of relative peace.

For a second I wasn't sure if I shouldn't just stay home. Other than Jasper, who could feel my emotions pretty much first hand, Esme was the one who felt my pain most. Because she loved everyone so much, she was troubled the most when it came to the pain of her "children". I knew that my ongoing despair was hell on her, and I loathed putting her through more.

But I would have to get through this at some point or another. Why not do it now?

I walked over to her and took her hands, looking into her eyes so that she would know I understood where her fear was coming from and that I knew what I was doing. "Esme, you don't need to worry," I said earnestly. "It's going to be okay. I promise she'll be okay."

She looked into my eyes, trying to read me for a change. When she decided that I was sure of what I was saying, she whispered, "Be strong."

I nodded to her, kissed her cheek, and then I was off.

It really was horrible out here and I wondered why she had been driving and where she had been going, and what on earth would possess her to go there now.

I knew how to find her even though she was pretty much lost on what looked like a mountain trail, but it was a spot I recognized, a spot I'd come to with Emmett and Jasper upon moving here to find out if it would make for a decent hunting spot. It was a good hour and half away from the city. Honestly, what had she been _thinking_?

It was a bad storm, complete with thunder and lightning, so I was using that as an excuse as to why I was taking my time getting to her, but it was really fear of being in such close proximity with her in such a secluded area. I was trying to prepare myself for this as fast as I could.

But even with that going through my mind, I wasn't able to drive slowly enough either. Whether or not she accepted my offer to drive her home was up to her, but either way this would be the first time I will have spoken to her in weeks and I was a little anxious to hear her voice addressing me again. I was more than anxious to see her eyes on me.

I got to her in less than the hour and a half that it would take when driving at normal speed, but I knew I needed to play this like it was a complete coincidence. If she knew that her new friend and my psychic sister had had a vision of her stranded in the woods and that was why I was coming to her rescue, than she would definitely be more afraid of me. Not to mention it would completely blow our cover.

So when I saw her car up ahead of me, and her slouching figure lying against the hood and the windshield, I slowed down, as if I thought it was any random girl who I was offering my assistance to.

She was in nothing but the clothes she'd worn to class that day, the black cardigan with the white tank top underneath and a pair of dark form fitting jeans. On her feet was a pair of spiky heeled boots. Around her it was chaos, with screaming winds and wild rain and she didn't look prepared to endure it at all. Yet she looked completely calm as she lied out in the rain, eyes closed, hands resting on her stomach, lips moving softly like she was singing to herself, like there was no down pour and she was lying out in the sun as water plastered her clothes and hair to her. She looked…peaceful, and if it wasn't for the soft movement of her mouth, I would think she was sleeping.

_What was she thinking? _The question tormented me.

When she heard me idling next to her she turned her head and opened her eyes. At first she looked confused, but then I wound down my window and she just looked shocked.

"Peirce?" I called out to her, infusing my voice with as much shock and confusion as I could see in her expression.

"Edward?" she shouted back. She was sitting up now. "Edward, is that you?"

I sighed in pleasure. Even hearing her shouting through what looked like a mini hurricane and sounding a little annoyed, her voice still held the soothing, rhythmic quality that I found so appealing.

"Yes, it's me," I answered. "What are you doing?" I demanded.

"What are _you_ doing?" she asked. "It's the middle of nowhere. Why are you out here?"

"Not important," I said, brushing off her inquiry because I didn't have an answer yet. "What happened?"

"My car is stuck, so now I'm waiting out the storm," she answered simply.

"On the hood of your car?" I asked incredulously. "Why?"

"I like the rain," she said, as if it was obvious. I smiled a bit, but still her logic confused me.

"Why don't you wait out the storm at home?" I suggested. "Do you want a ride?"

"From you?" She rolled her eyes. "No thanks."

"That's hurtful," I said.

"I'd apologize, but it would mean nothing seeing as I'm not sorry. You being here is a little too suspicious to be a coincidence, don't you think?"

Oh it was no coincidence, not that she needed to know that.

"I was only out for a drive?" I lied.

"Out here? In the rain?" she asked skeptically.

"Yes," I said simply. "What about you? Why are _you_ out here?"

"None of your business," she snapped.

I smiled a little wider. "Why won't you accept my offer?"

"Because you've shown stalker tendencies in the past," she pointed out. "And now I find you here, driving around in this shit storm. And now you're asking me to show you where I live? I shudder at the thought."

"Peirce, we're all alone right now," I pointed out to her. "If I meant you any harm, I wouldn't need to offer you a ride home. It's wet, it's windy and it's thundering and lightning. My intentions are nothing but pure," I vowed. My intentions were pure, but she didn't need to know there was difference between her life and her death tonight, and it _did_ in fact have to do with getting in the car with me.

I couldn't believe I was flirting with disaster this way, risking her life to test my self-control. I shouldn't have come. I should just drive away now, let her refuse my offer and be on my way. But I couldn't make my foot press down on the gas pedal. I was selfishly risking her life just so I could be near her.

Once again, this all felt very familiar, but I stopped that train of thought before it go any further.

"I don't need to dance in risk's way," she said.

_You have no idea how right you are_, I thought.

I sighed. Was being stubborn something all _singers_ had in common?

"I promise I'm not a psychopathic stalker and this isn't going to turn into a scene in a horror movie."

She looked unsure for a moment.

"What have you got to lose?" I prodded.

"Other than my life?" she muttered.

"You're in no danger from me," I said solemnly. I wasn't just promising her this, but I was also implanting it in my own head. I would _never_ hurt this human girl. Never. No matter how much I had to suffer.

Now if I could only get the monster in me to fully leave me, we would have no problems.

She stared at me for a moment, before sliding off the hood, rather gracefully, I'll admit, and opened her car door to retrieve her bag and guitar case. She was over to the passenger side of my car and in it in the next moment.

I groaned internally as I turned up the heat so that she would be more comfortable and rolled up the window. Just like Bella, the rain made her smell even better. I clutched the steering wheel hard, hard enough that I felt it give way a little under my hands. Still, I didn't loosen up my grip. Maybe if I pretended like this steering wheel was an anchor, I would be able to keep my promise and resist what the roaring monster in the pit of my gut wanted me to do.

She let out a breath and pulled up her hair, seemingly trying to stop the dripping, and the more she moved, the more her scent stirred around the car, and the more flames I had to endure. I took deep, even breaths, letting the pain become less and less foreign to me. _Get used to it_, I told myself.

I started driving, slower in the rain, as to not frighten her more.

She huddled in on herself, shivering.

"Do you mind telling me what you doing out here?"

"I was just driving," she said, a bit evasively. "I've been out here since after my last class today. I like to explore." She looked at me. "Why are you here?"

"There's a place nearby I like to come to get away from the family and be on my own." Not entirely untrue. Last time I had been here, I had found a place, vaguely resembling mine and Bella's meadow, but it was hardly a place I had ever visited again.

"Away from the family," she repeated. "You mean, away from Alice, those two muscled guys and the blond bitch you're always around?" she asked.

I laughed out loud, swallowing more of her essence and in turn, flames. "Blond bitch?"

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, actually sounding like she meant it. "I shouldn't talk about your sister that way. It's just a nickname that sprung to mind a little while ago."

"How do you know she's my sister? How do you know I'm related to any of them?" I inquired.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not an idiot, Edward. I meet you first, and have to put up with your weird gawking. I notice things about you, like your pale as snow skin and your gold eyes, and your…" She trailed off, not finishing the thought, before starting again. "Then I see you in one of my classes and you're sitting next to Blondie. Next day I meet the peculiar Alice, who tells me she has four other family members at this school. Later that day, I see you again with two other guys. You don't look alike for the most part buy you all share the same characteristics, not to mention the awkward way you all look at me," she explains. "Now either your all apart of some cult and I'm your next recruit and I've yet to meet Alice's other siblings, or you are her siblings, and you've got some creepy fixation on me."

It wasn't hard to put together, even for a human, I knew that, but I was surprised at how quick her mind worked. She was intelligent. I added that to my growing list of what I could tell about her hidden personality.

"Well, yes, I was trying to get away from the 'blond bitch'," I said quoting the nick name. "Though in my experience, she prefers to be called Rosalie."

She smiled a little.

"How long were you waiting out there before I came by?" I asked. I needed the sound of her smooth, soothing voice, however snarky it may be at the moment, to distract me from her aroma.

"About a half hour," she said. "My cell wasn't working so I had no choice but to sit there."

"And you decided to 'sit there' outside your car?"

"I like the rain," she said again.

I noticed her shivering again. "You realize you'd be less cold right now if you had waited inside, right?"

"I'm fine," she said defensively, and I decided to leave her alone about it, but not because of the tone of her voice.

It had more to do with the fact that she was offering up another distraction. She sat forward on the seat, and took off her cardigan. With the sweater gone out the corner of my eye, I could see the way the white tank top she had on underneath clung to her. I was right about the way her body was shaped, with its graceful curves and slim build, but now I could also see the feminine muscles in her abdomen. Watching her take off the sweater and assess the wetness of the rest of her clothes was a very… sensual sight. There were still drops of water on her flawless caramel skin and her long black hair was pulled up into a messy bun, so as she twisted this way and that way, I could see the embellished Libra symbol at the base of her neck, and the lotus flower behind her ear. On the insides of her wrists, written in flowing, cursive calligraphy were the words "Stay" on one, with a pair of lips, and "Strong," on the other. On her fingers, there was more writing: on her left index finger she had "Peace" and on her right middle finger, she had "Love". On her outer right forearm, in the same script, she had more writing as well. This one read, "Dream as if you'll live forever, live as if you'll die today."

Seeing all the ink and her small, perfect body made my own react in strange ways. And before I knew it, something I hadn't experienced, in reaction to a females body, in over twenty years cropped up and stayed there.

An erection. I had an erection.

I was shocked. Of course I was familiar with them. Bella, always the seductress, had been unintentionally ruthless when I came to her body. She always tried to ply away my careful boundaries that were set to keep her safe with her feverish kisses and wandering hands. Her efforts had the effect on me that she'd wanted, but never the outcome. Never the less, I was no stranger when it came to painful arousal for a stunning women.

Here with Peirce, so close to me, her scent in my nose and her warmth radiating against me, I was experiencing it again.

It had been so long… So long since I'd felt this for any other woman.

I gritted my teeth and held the steering wheel tighter. I tried not to fidget, but I was in desperate need of more room in my pants.

"What's with all the ink?" I asked quickly. I was fast losing my grip on myself, my anchor not keeping me as grounded as I would like.

"They all mean something special to me," she said.

"Like what?" I asked.

She didn't answer, and I could tell it was personal. And I knew already from her, that she didn't like to get personal.

I knew in that moment that I wanted her to get personal. I wanted her to feel comfortable with me so that she'd be able to tell me the important things about her life.

Maybe I should work to make her feel more at ease.

I opened the compartment under the stereo, the one that held dozens of my CDs.

"Anything you prefer?" I asked her.

She leaned forward and started listing the names of the artists.

"Coldplay, Flourence and the Machine, The Fray, Joe Brooks, Death Cab for Cutie, Radio Head, 2am club, The Script, Marianas Trench, Cee Lo Green, Paramore, and many more," she noted. "All older bands." She pulled out the Paramore CD. "You might just be my kind of music man."

I breathed a sigh of satisfaction, happy that she to approve of my music selection. "You like that kind of stuff?"

"I love that kind of stuff. And more." She pushed the CD into the player and skipped to last song. The song was "My Heart", the very song she'd been listening to the day I'd met her. "I love this song."

"Me too," I agreed.

"I personally think Paramore was a very under-rated band. Haley Williams didn't get the credit she deserved as an artist."

"Those are my exact thoughts," I said truthfully. "She was a wonderful writer with a unique sense of artistry. She found inspiration in everything," I said. It felt to talk to someone about music. Though my siblings had taken an interest in it, I hadn't truly been able to truly talk about music with anyone really in…ever.

She smiled. "You talk like they're your favourite."

"They're one of mine," I told her. "Speaking of wonderful writers, you're pretty amazing."

"Thanks. The same goes for you. That song was really something special."

"How long have you been writing?"

"Since I was nine, I think," she said, sounding like she was reflecting on something.

"What got you started?"

She shifted a bit. "A lot of different things."

Ah. More personal information.

Maybe if I started sharing things about myself it would help loosen her up. "I've been playing since I was very young. My mother put me in piano lessons and forced me to stay in them." That much was true. I had very vague human memories of learning at the age of five, back in the year of 1906.

"That's a long time," she said appreciatively. "What are your biggest influences when it comes to composing?"

So then we started talking about our preferences. She told me about how she thought all the classic composers, like Bach and Vivaldi were all so over rated for her and more esteemed than they should be. I had to disagree with her there.

"They were masters," I argued as she directed me where to go. "They set the some of the highest standards of music out there."

"They were old, pretentious show offs," she shot back, "who had nothing to do all day but brag about how they were prodigies when they were young."

She told me about how she preferred the more neyo-classical composers, like Charles Debussy. I was quick to agree to that, and even quicker to pass over him.

Before I knew what was happening, we were having a full on debate about the trailblazers in the music world, the ones who should have been given more credit, and the ones who were there for nothing but something to look at. I was lost in the sound of her voice as she talked about her favourites and compared them to mine. I found that we had a lot in common and that made me smile.

"I'm right here," she said eventually, abruptly. I hadn't even remembered that I was driving her home. I was so wrapped up in her that even the burn of her scent had all but escaped my notice.

I pulled up to a tall building, about the size of the one that I lived in. But instead of a luxurious apartment, this was a luxurious loft.

"You live here?" I asked.

"Yeah, it was my roommate's idea," she said sheepishly.

Her hand went to the handle so she could let herself out.

I didn't want my time to be up with her, but still I opened my mouth for the dreaded goodbye.

Except then she leaned back in her seat and looked at me, a soft smile on her lovely face.

"Thanks for driving me home, Edward," she said. "Surprisingly, I'm glad you came."

I laughed. "Surprisingly?"

She laughed as well. "I'm not very good with tact," she admitted. She seemed to think about this and then added on. "Actually, I'm not really good with words in general unless it's being accompanied by synchronizing melody and harmonies."

"It's okay," I assured her. "I know what you mean. And I'm glad I found you."

"I'm glad you found me, too," she replied.

"So does this mean you'll stop avoiding me in our classes? Can we be…friends now?" I asked stuttering over the words a bit and hoping she didn't notice. I hadn't ever really had a friend, unless my siblings counted and… Bella.

"Friends, huh?" She was silent for so long, I found some of the old frustration coming back, the kind that had me begging to see inside her mind for just a second. Finally, she said, "Yeah. I think we can friends."

I smiled wider than had in decades. "So I'll see you around then?"

"I'll see you around," she confirmed, before climbing out. She got the rest of her possessions from the back and started walking for her building. Just when I was about to start driving, she turned around and knocked on the window.

"By the way," she said when I rolled down her window, "I'm Peirce."

The satisfaction that I had won her over in some small degree was a heady sensation that lead me to feel…good.

"It's nice to meet you, Peirce," I replied.

She gave me one final grin, then she was walking to her building.

The drive home was peaceful and uneventful. The lingering scent of her in my car almost made me feel like I was she was still with me, and that lengthened my sense of tranquility.

They were all waiting for when I got home: Alice and Esme, anxiously in front, Emmett with his arms around Rosalie a little ways behind them, and jasper of course taking up the rear. Alice had filled them in on what had happened between me and the girl. They all knew that she was still walking and talking, living and breathing. They were all very proud, even Rosalie, though grudgingly.

Alice was the first to bound into my arms.

"You were great," she congratulated me.

Esme was next to hug me. "I'm very proud of you," she whispered in my ear. _I knew you could do it._

I hugged them both back gratefully. "Thank you." When they pulled away, though, I said, "I told you it would be okay."

"Yeah, you did," Emmett came in, a huge grin on his face. "For the record, bro, I never doubted you for a second."

I rolled my eyes. "Bullshit."

"Language," Esme chastised.

Jasper laughed, and I could tell that he was just as proud as the rest of them. In fact, he was relishing the positive emotions in the room, so different from what he was used to nowadays.

Rosalie came up next, a slight smile on her face. "You didn't kill her," she stated.

"I didn't kill her," I confirmed.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I suppose I was wrong."

Emmett put on a face of false shock. "Does anyone else hear that?"

We were all silent for a moment, everyone listening but me. I smiled wryly at Emmett's train of thought. Alice smiled, too

"Hear what?" Jasper finally asked.

"It's the sound of Rosalie sucking up her pride," he finally said.

Everyone laughed, while she hit him playfully in the stomach.

"It was a joke," he said, half laughing, half grunting.

"Just remember who you're dealing with," she said warningly, before pulling him away.

We all dispersed at that, and the feeling of accomplishment was still a heavy emotion in me. I had done it. I had been alone with Peirce, in a car no less, and I had managed not to kill her. She was still alive and breathing. It could even be argued that she was safe now, thanks to me coming along and carrying her home. A forest was no place for a young girl to be stuck in the middle of the night—my species was a perfect example of why—and I had been the one to retrieve her.

She had gotten into my car with me. She had given me her hard-to-earn trust. She had agreed to be friends with me and she'd even given me warm smiles and gentle expressions that had made me shiver in pleasure. I wasn't fool enough to think that I was all the way in with her; knowing what I knew of Peirce, though she often confused and surprised, she would be a lot more difficult to win over than just a simple car ride home. But still, these were small victories that I didn't take lightly.

Alice came after a little while to join me at the piano.

"You really were fantastic," she complimented me.

I smiled a little. "It just takes the right amount of focus. Once she gave me something else to focus on, I was almost able to ignore her blood completely."

"Something else to focus on?" she asked. "Like what?"

"Like the fact that we have so much in common," I gave for example. "And that she's intelligent and interesting and a challenge for me get to know. She's like a mystery for me to solve, and I like that."

Alice nodded, agreeing with all I said. "She is pretty great, isn't she."

I nodded. "All I know is when I'm in her presence, I don't want to focus on the bad things from the past anymore."

"Sounds like you like her," Alice noted.

I shook my head quickly, surprised at the turn of her thoughts, and not really thinking my answer. "It's not like that," I told her. "Sure, I think she's wonderful, but she only serves as a distraction. We're… friends."

"It's more than a distraction," Alice disagreed. "She grounds you. Like an anchor."

An anchor. I supposed it was true enough that she brought me back down when I floated away in a fit of despair. And when I could've been swept up in the bloodlust, not just tonight but all the other times I've been near her, she herself, her complicated personality and her musical voice and her deep, deep eyes had kept me from getting lost. It had been her herself tonight as well and the conversations we'd had, not the steering wheel, that had stopped me from succumbing.

"I see a lot for the two of you," she said abruptly.

I looked at her, completely floored. "Excuse me?"

"Nothing's concrete. All I know is your relationship with her and my relationship with her will grow. I even see her bonding with Emmett."

"So she becomes a great part of our lives?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. It all depends on how you come to feel about her. And if she accepts you into her life. She's a tough nut to crack. You're going to have to work hard to get through to her."

This I already knew. But now, with what Alice had just seen, I had new worries plaguing me. "Alice, you don't see us… maybe one day…"

She knew what I was getting at. "It's all up to the two of you. I'm just saying it sounds like you want her around"—she gave me a stern look—"so don't screw it up."

She left me at that. It was as if it would defy the laws of physics if Alice didn't leave me with more questions than answers.

I wanted Peirce around, I wouldn't bother denying that. But a future, that involved her? How would that come about?

All I knew was that Alice was right and Peirce did bring me back down. She was my anchor to a safe place where no pain but the superficial kind existed, where I found resounding moments of relative peace, where I could actually…smile.

But there were many things to worry about when it came to her, and it wasn't all about her blood. That arousal that I by some miracle was able to get rid of by the time I got home wasn't good news. I would have to try to keep that in check.

But all in all, today had been a great. I made a new friend. And found and anchor to ground me in the perfect way I needed.

* * *

><p>Okay, so that was the next installment in this story. Tell me how you think this EdwardPeirce interaction went. Comment if you like and want me to continue, because if I keep getting zero feedback, I will discontinue this story.

P.S.: For anyone who may need a visual for Peirce's tattoos, visit the links on my profile


	8. Chapter 7: Risk

AN: New chapter, more interaction. Another song. This time it's called Another Day by Paramore. It's really good, and if you look it up, pretend it's an acoustic.

DISCLAIMER: I know, I know. I love Edward as much as the next gal. But just like the rest of you, he and the rest of the Cullens belong to Stephenie Meyer.

Chapter 7: Risk

The next day was depressing. It was Saturday and I was stuck inside, doing nothing, and without my anchor. Seeing as it was a weekend, I had no way of or excuse for seeing Peirce, and the lack of distraction was killing me. My family had found ways of entertaining themselves; Carlisle and Esme at their separate work places, Alice and Jasper out to hunt, and Rosalie and Emmett were taking advantage of the free day by taking advantage of each other. I supposed I should hunt soon, but i wasn't really up to, and instead decided to stay in. The only good thing about having to block out the images and the thoughts that were running through their heads was that it gave me something to _not _think about.

Normally I would go to my other, much smaller place that was mine alone and away from my family, but I was afraid to be completely by myself. All the solitude might enable me to think of my lost one.

So I stayed home, enduring Rosalie's and Emmett's together time. But it wasn't all bad. After last night with Peirce, I was feeling, dare I say it, a little inspired. I smiled as I remembered her every word from last night, all her thoughts and opinions voiced for only me to hear. Thinking of the musical lilt of her voice had all sorts of melodies and harmonies coming to mind. All my curiosity about her, all that I wanted to know was leading to new lyrics and new a new melody. I sat on my piano bench, strumming away at one of my guitars, trying to put down what was in my head perfectly onto paper. Even though I had perfect recall and never forgot a lyric or a chord once it came to me, it always made the writing process a little easier when I could physically see it in black and white.

Nothing was concrete yet; I only had the chorus down, and even that I could see where I would do some tweaking:

_I know I don't know you,  
><em>_But I want to, so bad.  
><em>_Everyone has a secret,  
><em>_But can they keep it?_

It was about the secrecy of her, the harsh mystery that lied beneath the beautiful surface. It was also about me as well. Peirce wasn't stupid; in fact she was the complete opposite. She knew by now that I wasn't the same as everyone else. _"You're kind of strange. You know that, right?"_ she'd said to me.

If I was to pursue any kind of friendship with the girl, it was imperative that I keep what I was private from her. For one thing, not everyone was as understanding as Bella had been. Peirce may not be as physically fragile as Bella had been, but I didn't know enough about her mental and emotional stability to judge if she could handle the truth. She seemed pretty tough, but who knew, she might fall to pieces if she had to realize that vampires weren't just from nightmares and horror movies. She would run from me if she found out what I was, and I would lose every ounce of progress I'd made with her when she did.

And then there were the safety measures that needed to be taken into consideration. There was a very strong possibility that Peirce finding out about me would ruin her life. If the Volturi caught wind of her, her death was certain. Bella had been proof enough of that. And this time my family would be ending with her. They wouldn't give us another chance. They would figure that we hadn't learned our lesson from the first time and that we never would, so they would exterminate the problem that was us.

I wouldn't let that happen to another innocent because of me again.

But putting the Volturi threat aside, there was still another danger to consider, myself being it. I always found ways to distract myself from her blood when I was around her, but that could stop at any time. I was able to stamp down the monster that roared in my stomach every time I was around her and I'd made the decision to never hurt her. But I could slip. She could get comfortable enough around me that she might let me touch her. I could reach out, meaning to touch her face and crush her skull. I could be giving her a hug and snap her ribcage. I could kill quite by accident.

These were all possibilities that I was familiar with. These were all things that I'd had to consider when I'd been contemplating a future with Bella. I had been able to control myself then. Could I do the same now?

Yes, I decided. I wouldn't ever hurt Peirce. I'd sooner go provoke the Volturi, again, then ever cause her harm. It's all mind over matter, I reminded myself. If I decided that I could be around her without causing her harm, then I could.

_But your very presence causes her harm_, another, more noble part of me voiced. And it was right. If I wasn't absolutely perfect, if I wasn't _completely_ without mistake, I could kill her. The Volturi could find out about her. There could be more sadistic members of my kind, like James, who would try to take her if they caught wind of her. So many dangers plagued her just for _knowing _me. So many risks.

But I would take them all. I would take the chances of getting to her with the knowledge that bad things could happen to her. Just so I could find some ease. I knew it was wrong, but I needed to be around her, I needed to know her. I would be self-indulgent in the most horrible way at her expense. What a terrible, selfish creature I was.

Maybe I could still make it right, or rather, give her a chance to make it right. I couldn't _not_ see her if she gave me the opportunity, but maybe I could give her some insight as to what she was getting into. Maybe if I gave her fair warning, she would know not to risk it.

I only wished that I had thought of this yesterday, when she still wasn't talking to me, before I'd had the pleasure of spending real time with her and becoming even more entranced. Too late now.

But I wouldn't make mistakes. Nothing bad would come of these risks. I was resolute.

"How long have they been up to that?" Alice's voice asked. All of a sudden she and Jasper were here, and she was referring to the desperate moans we could hear coming from the upper level.

I smirked then turned to face them. "They've been on and off for the same duration of your trip," I answered.

Alice and Jasper both made a face. "How do you stand it?" she asked.

I gestured to the guitar. "I've been trying to tune them out."

They laughed. "They should be more polite," Jasper chastised.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, they should be more gracious, like the two of you who take care of each other before coming home."

Jasper's face stretched into a self-satisfied smile, while Alice took the comment in stride. "Exactly," she said haughtily, and I smiled at her expression.

They both came over to where I was seated, Alice taking a seat next to me, Jasper coming up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders.

"Have you come up with anything good?" she asked, looking over the many sheets of paper on the piano.

I shrugged. "Maybe."

Jasper reached out and grabbed the piece of paper that I'd just been working on. He read it to himself, smirked a bit, and then handed it to Alice.

"One guess who that's about," Jasper said.

"It's none of your business," I said quickly, taking it back from Alice.

"Really? You're already writing about her?" Alice inquired hintingly.

"None. Of. Your. Business."

Alice pouted. "C'mon Edward! We're curious."

"Why don't you just look into the future to see how the song turns out," I suggested jokingly.

Her frown deepened, but I sensed some underlying playfulness. "You haven't made up your mind about it yet," she said. "I imagine that what I'm seeing in the future is what you're seeing in your head: a bunch of unintelligible jibber."

I smiled. "I guess you'll never know, then."

"Just tell us, Edward," Jasper interjected. "Is it about her?"

"Since when are _you_ so nosy?" I accused him light-heartedly. "You're wife here has always had a medaling complex,"—Alice stuck her tongue out, but I just smiled wider—"but you've always been the one to _mind his own business_."

"You're calling us nosy?" Jasper asked, astonished. "You, who has insight to everyone's thoughts?"

"Yes, you're nosy, you, who has the nasty habit of messing with people's emotions," I countered. "At least I have no choice when it comes to my gift."

"I don't choose what I feel, either," he pointed out. "I only choose when to manipulate the emotions. Same as when you choose to listen in on someone's deepest, darkest thoughts."

"Fair enough," I allowed. Then I turned on Alice. "So what's your excuse?"

"Excuse me?" she enquired.

"You heard me, little clairvoyant."

"He has a point, Alice," Jasper agreed.

"I will not be teamed up on," she huffed. "It's the same with me as it is with the two," she clarified. "I don't choose what I see."

Jasper and I shared a doubtful look.

"It's true," she snapped. Jasper and I both shook our heads.

"Whatever you say, Alice," I conceded, turning back to my notes.

Alice and Jasper shared a glance, and there was a specific emotion in that look. It was hope. They were becoming hopeful. I could see what this looked like to them, even without my special advantage: I hadn't had a playful conversation with any member of my family, not even Emmett, since before Bella's last birthday. Since before all the trouble started. And now here I was, joking around with the two of them, almost like the way we used. They knew well what the change was, and couldn't help but hope it continued. They didn't want to bring it up me, though, just in case it ruined my progress. I pretended not to notice.

As the moaning upstairs escalated into full on shouts that even normal humans would be able to hear, the three of us wrinkled our noses.

"They should really wait until they're alone," Alice whined.

"Right, because that happens so often," I contradicted.

"It could happen now," she suggested. "Jazz and I were going to for a walk in Central Park . Care to join us?"

"You're inviting me out on a date with the two of you?" I asked questioningly. "I think I'll pass."

"It's not a date," Jasper clarified. "We're just going for a casual stroll. You're welcome to join us." He gestured to the piano. "Maybe if you take a break from that, it'll be easier when you come back to it."

I looked at their faces. They both looked very earnest and a quick scan of their thoughts told me that there were no underlying motives here. They were simply inviting me out with them, trying to get me out of the house.

I stood up. "Yes," I answered. "I would like to go with you."

Alice's smile was like the sun. "Then let's go

They lead me out into the street, along the side walk until we got to the square. It was late afternoon by now, and the sun was making its quick decent, but it painted the landscape beautifully. Maybe that's what had Jasper and Alice feeling so sentimental. They held hands as they walked, keeping each other close. Every little while he would lean down to her, whispering sweet, fluffy nothings into her ear, at which she would reward him with a giggle or quick kiss.

It was excruciatingly hard not to notice how in love they were. I could see it in the look in Jasper's eye when she was with him, I noticed it with every tender touch Alice gave him, I heard about it daily in every thought either of them had; they were always at the forefront of each other's mind. With the pink starting to paint the sky from the setting sun, it truly seemed like these moments were made for people like them. And I'd lived long enough to know that they were.

A new fissure cracked my silent heart. Moments like these were made for people in love, for people like Alice and Jasper, or Rosalie and Emmett, or Carlisle and Esme. Or even for people like me and Bella. I tried not to concentrate on that thought. It was hard, though. She would have loved this.

It wasn't that crowded out, to my surprise, but of course there were many people here. Not enough to block out the scent, however. One specific scent that stood out from all the others, now that I'd noticed it. One scent that made my mouth water and my body tingle.

She was here, here in the park, somewhere close by, too, if I could pick out her scent among all the others. I immediately started searching for her, looking through the people to find my anchor.

I found her, following her scent. She was away from the field where most of the people were. I found her on the path, past the bridge to the part of the park that looked like a path with the trees canopied above it. She had a camera in her hands, not one of those regular digital cameras, but one of the professional ones. I watched her take a picture of whatever, then pull the camera down to look at. She smiled in satisfaction, then started walking idly, looking for more to photograph, I presume.

She looked like part of the setting, she was so beautiful. I loved the way she looked, her hair in two buns low on her head, and the rest of dressed casually, just a pair of jeans, and a brown leather jacket with a colourful scarf underneath. She was so, so beautiful, and with the sun setting in the back, it illuminated her like and angel. For a moment, I was transfixed by her.

She looked over, as if she could feel me staring at her. Her face stretched into a confused yet pleasant smile. I let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding. Part of me was worried that at seeing me again, so soon after the last time and in such a strange place, she would regain some of her suspicion. But she looked happy to see me.

She started towards me, and like a magnet, I was pulled towards her.

"Fancy seeing you here," she said in greeting.

"I promise I'm not stalking you," I said as I approached her.

"Don't worry, I wasn't going to accuse you of anything," she said, placating me playfully. "I'm just surprised is all."

"I was just out for a walk with Jasper and Alice," I explained, gesturing to where they were walking together, still hand and hand.

"Do you enjoy being a third wheel?" she asked skeptically. I guessed she was confused as to why I would be out with them when they so clearly needed to be alone.

"They dragged me here," I told her. "I don't think they thought they'd start feeling so romantic."

"Well it's a good thing I'm here to save from the uncomfortable couple love," she said.

I had to agree.

"You know how to use that thing?" I asked her, eager to find out another thing about her.

"Oh yeah," she said, looking down at the camera in her hands. "I took a class at my second high school. Found out I have a talent for it."

She dropped her face then, as if she'd shared more information then she'd intended to.

Second high school? How many had she gone to? And why?

"How many did you go to?" I asked.

"Just two," she answered quickly, but she sounded uncomfortable. I guessed that this was one of those things that weren't my "business".

Making a mental note to get it out of her at another time, I changed the subject. "So you're a song writer, a musician, a drawer, and now a photographer," I listed, not bothering to hide how impressed I was. She laughed at my tone, looking modest. "That's pretty impressive."

"I also love to dance, and teach at a studio nearby," she added. "But really it's nothing special. I tried a lot of things in high school."

"And were good at all of them," I finished for her.

"I had many interests, there's nothing wrong with that," she defended herself. I smiled.

"So tell me how this thing works," I directed.

"What, the camera?" she asked.

I smiled even wider at her. "No, the art. It's all about lighting and angles, right?"

She smiled. "I guess it's a little bit about that," she allowed reluctantly. "I mean, that's what they teach you in the classes. But in my experience, the best pictures come from having a passion for what you're doing," she explained, and her voice took on a new tone. It was like the one she'd used yesterday, when we were discussing our music interests: it was a sound of total consumption, of true knowledge and real love of what she was talking about. "You can look at a photograph and tell if the photographer truly enjoys what they're doing. Photography isn't about lighting and angles and all that technical stuff, or even the subject, really. I mean, those things need to be taken into consideration, but what makes a good picture is joy and passion and creativity."

I was entranced by the intensity in her, lulled into peace at the sound of her voice, blocking out every other noise arounds us.

"How do you know what will make the perfect subject?" I asked, just to keep her talking like this.

"Anything can make the perfect subject, if you look at it the right way. Look." She started walking slowly, gesturing up to the trees. "That bird there, on the branch. It's beautiful and if I can get the composition right…" She turned some nobs on her camera, then lifted it to her face. After a snap of the shutter, she pulled it down and showed me what the picture looked like.

It was beautiful, a close up of the colourful bird perched on a thin branch. The back ground was blurred so that there was nothing to distract you from the beauty the subject, but there was enough pink from the sunset to give it a dreamy look.

I thought the bird looked even better in the picture then in reality, because she made it that way. It seemed like everything she touched, she turned it into something more spectacular than it was.

"It's perfect," I said, and I wondered if she noticed the awe in my voice.

She smiled a sweet smile as she looked down at the picture with me. "You see? There is beauty in literally everything around us." She turned to look at me. "It just takes a little of your own openness to see things differently, and passion, and creativity. And sometimes"—she brought the camera back to her face and quickly took the picture, aiming the lens at me—"a little spontaneity." She laughed as she peeked at me from behind the camera.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help grinning at her. I loved the light look in her eyes. "You're pretty clever."

"Thank you. I pride myself on taking people by surprise."

We walked for a while, talking about nothing in particular, and really I was just happy to be with her, to listen to the musical lilt of her voice, to see the light in those blue, blue eyes. I liked to see her happy, instead of reclusive and defensive. I liked that she laughed at the things I said, that she was starting to loosen up around me. It felt like I would do anything to keep the look on her face; her happiness made me happy.

"Are you busy later tonight?" I asked abruptly, wanting to prolong my time with her.

"Actually I am. I'm supposed to meet Anya pretty soon," she said. Did I imagine the hint of regret in her voice? I hoped not.

But still, my mood plummeted at the thought of letting her go now.

An electronic chirping went off, followed by a high squeaky voice, telling her to _answer your phone_.

She reached into her back pocket. "Speak of the devil," she muttered. She held up the phone to show me that the screen was a picture of her and the blond girl named Anya. They were hugging, Anya's face turned in to kiss Peirce's cheek, while she took the picture. I smiled at the picture, thinking it was endearing to see them that way. "Anya."

"Hello," she answered.

"_Am I mistaken, and tonight is not the open mike night_?" Anya asked sardonically.

"It is," Peirce said, smiling at her tone.

"_So where the hell are you? I was getting worried_."

Peirce laughed. "You're worried because I'm not home at six-thirty in the evening?"

"_Peirce!"_ she snapped.

"Okay, okay." She laughed harder. "I'm in Central Park taking pictures and I lost track of time." She looked over at me very briefly as she said, "I got distracted."

"_Well, come on, I've been ready and waiting for an hour. Same with Eric. We're getting restless."_

"And I know what happens when you two get restless," she muttered distastefully. "You guys go on, I'm coming home now and I'll meet you there."

"_Is that a good idea?"_ Anya fretted.

"Sure, I don't go on until eight," she explained.

Curiosity burned through me, stronger than the flames in my throat at this point. She was performing tonight? Would she be singing the same song, or a new one? What was the motivation behind this one if the song was different from the first? I had to know.

"_You'd better hurry up,"_ she warned again, but this time her voice was lighter, as if hinting at something. _"Eric invited Aaron, and from what I understand, he's _very _excited to see you."_

"Really?" she asked, her face lighting up.

"_Really."_

I really didn't like the way she seemed so excited by just the mention of a boy's name. It wasn't just that she lit up at the boy's name, it was that she lit up at _another_ boy's name. I didn't want her to be happy about meeting someone else. Seeing her enthusiasm made me want to go all the more.

Where was she going to be?

"_The place is Grind Me, right?"_

"That is correct," Peirce answered, and after Anya listed off the address, Peirce confirmed it and hung up.

_Thank you, Anya_, I thought.

"I'm sorry, I have to go," she said.

"Now?" I hoped I didn't sound like a petulant child.

"Yes, now. I can't risk the wrath of Anya, she'll fucking kill me if I stand her up."

I cringed at the word, surprised that something so crass could come out her mouth.

"Sorry about the language," she said genuinely, though she seemed to be amused at my discomfort, "It's a bad habit. I'll see you around." She smiled at me and then she started running down the path.

I was quick to find Alice and Jasper after she left, quick to tell them what my plans were for tonight.

"Maybe she's right and you are a stalker," Alice said.

I ignored the jab in favour of explaining myself. "I just want more time with her. What's wrong with accidently bumping into her again?"

Jasper laughed. "Because this time, your 'accidently' is completely on purpose."

"She doesn't need to know that."

"Okay, Edward," Alice allowed. "You go if you want. I just hope you what you're doing."

"You could come, too," I offered. "I'm sure Peirce would love the added support of her new friend Alice."

Alice made a grudgingly impressed expression, and Jasper said, "You two can field this one without me."

"Well, I'm in," Alice said excitedly, and I could see that she was already sorting through her many articles of clothing and accessories mentally. I rolled my eyes, but smiled at the same time.

Time dragged as I waited for an appropriate time to go to the place where Peirce would be playing, but at least I had the distraction of listening to Rosalie help Alice choose and outfit that was "appropriate"—in the words of Alice—for an open mike night. I knew that not a lot of time was passing, but it felt like forever.

While I waited for Alice, I was able to think about Peirce. I was anxious to see what her reaction to seeing me twice in one day was going to be: would she be happy, excited, eager, confused, anxious, frightened, worried? Would she accuse me of being a stalker again? Would she feel intruded upon if I showed up out of the blue and vied for more of her attention? After all, she did seem excited to be spending the night out with her friends Anya, Eric and… Aaron.

But _Aaron_ only made me want to go all the more. Her whole attitude had changed at the mention of his name, and it made me mad. It was obvious that whoever this Aaron was, he had caught her attention in a way that I hadn't seen anyone do in all the time I'd been watching her, in a way I hadn't been able to do, despite all my efforts. It made me angry that this boy seemed to have her affections.

It surprised me that her reaction to another male could bring this reaction out in me. Did I want Peirce's affections? I wanted her friendship and her trust. I wanted to know her, but was that the same thing as affection. It must be, or I wouldn't be feeling so jealous right now.

I was willing to risk her having negative response to seeing me if it meant distracting her from him.

Alice finally came down the stairs, in her idea of appropriate, and we were off. It didn't take us long to find because Alice had done a lot exploring when we first moved here, looking for anything and everything that would make acceptable shopping places for her (Alice was like a child in a candy shop, here in New York: it was, after all, the fashion capitol of the world). So seeing as she had scoured almost the entire city within the first twenty-four hours being here, she remembered the place.

Grind Me was a local coffee shop that, incidentally, had an open night mike every Saturday. It was bigger than a shop, but it was too small to be a restaurant, as well. But no matter what the size, it was packed; that much I could tell just from being outside the place. I knew that this was a popular spot, and other than weekday mornings for the breakfast rush, Saturday night was its most popular night.

With all this in mind, it would make perfect sense to "accidently" run into her here, but still I felt nervous, again worried about her reaction.

"Edward," Alice said softly from next to me. "C'mon. You're not having second thoughts are you?"

I shook my head. I knew I wanted to see her. I was just worried that she wouldn't want to see me.

"It'll be fine," she said. "Let's go."

Stealing myself, I climbed out of the car and went in to the café.

It was moodily, giving it a jazzy feeling and I was right about the amount of people here—the amount of mental voices was huge— but they weren't enough stop me from immediately seeking out Peirce and finding her. She was sitting near the stage with Anya and her apparent boyfriend, Eric, along with another boy who I assumed to be Aaron. The two of them naturally caught and held my attention.

I listened to the words that were passed between them and I watched the body language on both ends. They were sitting close to each other, not too much so that they could be mistaken as a couple. It was enough though, that it made me uncomfortable. They were facing each other and while he told a story of a show that his band had done, the way her elbow rested on the table and she held her face in her hand gave off the air of total absorption to what he was saying. They both laughed at something I didn't think was very funny, and while doing it, his hand landed on her thigh.

I wanted to storm over there and rip it from the wrist.

He was such a good actor, making it look like it had fallen there by chance, but I knew better. He liked her. A lot. In fact, he wanted to have a romantic relationship with her, to be with her the way Anya and Eric were: in love.

Not acceptable.

At once I wondered, again, at this strange aversion to the thought of her belonging to another. The obvious answer to my feelings would just be that I was jealous, as I had concluded to earlier. I'd only ever experienced that emotion with one person, and I did not think that this was what it was. It was more that I didn't like the lust-ridden thoughts in this boy's mind when it came to Peirce. I didn't like that he made it a challenge to get close to her; he knew as well as I did that she wasn't easy to get to know. And sure I saw her as a challenge as well, but to me, Peirce wasn't a conquest.

For some other reason that made even less sense, it made me mad that despite all I'd learned from his mind, he seemed to have genuine feelings towards Peirce. He cared for her, he wanted to be near her, he wanted to truly _know_ her. He was a good guy, and this was real for him. _She_ was real to him

But it wasn't okay for me. She was _my_ anchor, _my_ friend, _my_ Peirce. Mine, all mine.

_This is a sure thin_g, he thought. _She's into me, I can tell. It's only a matter of time._

I growled unintentionally.

"Calm down now," Alice warned. "I can see them, too."

We must have been in there for about five minutes when the MC, a young twenty-something man with extensive piercings and tattoos, came on and told the audience that the intermission was over and that they were introducing a new musician. I knew instinctively that it would be Peirce.

"And now we have a new performer coming to our stage, but word on the street is she can rock," he said appreciatively. Her response was to look away modestly, while some members of the crowd cheered softly.

The MC continued. "She's talented, she's fun, she's amazing to look at. Everyone, this is Peirce."

The crowd clapped for her and I watched as Anya gave her a hug and push, and then she was on the stage and a spot light was on her.

She was dressed the same as she had been when I saw here in the park, the only difference was that her hair was down now with its natural waves flowing with a barrette clipping one side back, instead of the two buns it had been styled in earlier.

"Hey everyone, I'm Peirce and this is Jazzy Jebediah," she said. I realized that this guitar was different from the one she'd played in class on that first day. This one was a beautiful blackcutaway dreadnought.

I realized the exact moment that she saw me standing here. Her face went from smiling and playful as she explained to the audience a little bit about herself, to shocked and confused. Her eyes landed on me and stayed there.

This was the exact response I was worried about getting from her. I wished now more than ever before that I could know what she was thinking. Would she be angry or frightened that I was here?

She'd only stopped to stare at me for about two seconds, but it dragged on as I waited to see what she would do at seeing me here. But then most amazing thing happened. Her blue eyes lit up and she smiled, a real smile with teeth and life and joy. And it was all for me. It was seeing me here that made her look like that.

I felt like the satisfaction and pride that filled my chest were enough for the whole world to see.

"Anyway," she continued. "This is my first open mike here in New York, so let me know what you guys think. This one is called Another Day."

She started to play the chords on the acoustic guitar and the whole place fell into silence.

_And if you're listening, I miss you.  
><em>_And if you hear me now, I need you.  
><em>_Where did you go?  
><em>_'Cause you're not gone.  
><em>_Everyone knows that something's wrong.  
><em>_The wires were cut and I'm alone._

_I know we're getting closer.  
><em>_I know you're coming back for me this time.  
><em>_This time._

_And do you ever want me, do you ever need me?  
><em>_I know that you left before goodbye.  
><em>_And it's okay, there's always another day.  
><em>_And anytime you want me, anytime you see me.  
><em>_I don't think you meant to say goodbye.  
><em>_And it's okay, there's always another day._

_Your voice comes in and now it's fading,  
><em>_I can't believe this is so frustrating.  
><em>_'Cause you never seem to understand  
><em>_And you let me slip straight through your hands,  
><em>_And how does it feel to be alone?_

_I know we're getting closer.  
><em>_I know you're coming back for me this time.  
><em>_This time._

_And do you ever want me, do you ever need me?  
><em>_I know that you left before goodbye.  
><em>_And it's okay, there's always another day.  
><em>_And anytime you want me, anytime you see me,  
><em>_I don't think you meant to say goodbye.  
><em>_And it's okay, there's always another day._

_If you ever find what you were looking for,  
><em>_I will be waiting there, I will be there._

At the music break here, the crowd started to truly cheer for here, because the intensity of the song started to pick up. She looked so comfortable up there on the stage, as if this was where she was born, raised and planned on dying. Like this was her home. The way she interacted with the audience, the way she moved with her music, you'd think that stages and spotlights were made for her. She was an amazing performer, and I stood in awe as I watched.

_And do you ever want me, do you ever need me?  
><em>_I know that you left before goodbye.  
><em>_And it's okay, there's always another day.  
><em>_And anytime you want me, anytime you see me,  
><em>_I don't think you meant to say goodbye,  
><em>_But it's okay, there's always another day._

She sang the last note and there was no moment of hesitation before the crowd went wild for her. She smiled radiantly at everyone, and then her eyes were back on me. I clapped and cheered for her, too, wanting to let her know thoroughly she'd amazed me.

And I wasn't the only one. Now that she'd stopped singing and her influence wasn't blocking the whole of the people here, I realized that she consumed every thought of every human in here.

_She was amazing…_

_Oh my god…_

_How long has she been doing this…?_

They all loved her, even the ones who had gone on before her and were jealous of her talent.

"Thanks everyone," she said, before walking off the side that she'd come from.

"I know, I know," The MC said when he came back on the stage, "She was amazing, right? But now it's time for our next group…"

"Wow," Alice said from beside me.

"I know," I agreed.

"No wonder she's all you think about," Alice said, but I ignored her in favour of listening to the conversation she was having.

"You were amazing," Anya congratulated her. "I haven't heard you play that one in years."

Peirce shrugged. "I guess I was feeling this one today."

This confused Anya, because she knew what the song was about, and wondered why it would be on Peirce's mind now, with the way things were going in their lives.

There was only a vague flicker in her mind that the song was about Peirce's parents, and that though it seemed upbeat and hopeful, it wasn't exactly a happy song.

I wondered why she would be motivated to sing a sad song as well. She didn't seem upset at all in the time that I'd been watching her, but then again, what did I know? She was so hard to read sometimes.

Just then Aaron came up behind her. "You did great," he whispered in her ear.

She turned around to face him. "Thanks, Aaron." And then she hugged him.

I clenched my fists at the sight. To him this was a sign of his affection towards him, but I was sure that she was just thanking him. At least that's what I told myself to keep for going over there and ripping him away from her.

"So do you guys want to head out now?" Aaron suggested, anxious to get out of here and be alone with Peirce.

Anya and Eric all agreed, but Peirce said, "Actually, I saw a couple friends here, so can I catch up with you guys in a bit?"

The other two seemed fine with that, but Aaron, I could hear, was especially disappointed.

Not that I gave a damn, because right now, I could see that she had every intention of coming over to me and Alice.

She held my complete attention as she came through the crowd of people, as if the spotlight was still on her.

When she got close enough to us, she approached Alice, holding out her arms.

"Alice," she said happily while they embraced. "Hi."

I cringed inwardly, hoping that she wouldn't notice the abnormal temperature of Alice's skin.

"Hey," Alice said as they pulled apart. "You were really great. I mean truly amazing."

"Thanks, that means a lot." She turned to look at me. "Hi, Edward."

"Hi, Peirce," I replied.

"I'm surprised to see you two here," she said after a moment.

"We were around," Alice said casually.

"And we love coffee," I lied.

"Uh huh," she said, sounding unconvinced.

"So Peirce, I'm a little offended that you didn't invite me to your big night," Alice joked, but I wasn't so sure the sentiment didn't really hold some truth in it, at least on my part.

"It wasn't anything huge," Peirce explained. "I only brought Anya, and she brought her boyfriend, and Aaron."

"You mean the guy who's staring at us right now?" I asked, hoping she couldn't hear the distaste in my voice.

"Yeah, him," she said, then turned around to wave at him. He looked away sheepishly.

I laughed unintentionally.

"Why don't you go up there?" she said abruptly.

Alice snickered.

"I don't think so," I said carefully.

Her eyes lit up with a challenge. "C'mon, Edward, you'd be great."

"I have nothing prepared," I said quickly.

"You played that song in class a few weeks ago," she reminded me, and I cursed that she had that keen memory. "Just play that. It was beautiful."

I warmed a little on the inside at what she thought of my music, but there was no way I was going to let her talk me into this.

"And what about the song you were working on this afternoon?" Alice asked.

My head snapped around in her direction.

"You were writing a song?" Peirce asked. "I want to hear. What's it about?"

"Is it done?" Alice asked innocently.

I would have to think of some way to make her pay for this later.

_I'll see you coming, _she thought smugly.

"No, it's not done," I told Peirce. "And I can't go up there tonight. Maybe next time."

"Alright," she conceded. "But I'm holding you to it."

I couldn't help smiling at her.

"Well Peirce, I am heading off," Alice shared, and I swear if it was possible for a vampire to have whiplash, Alice would cause me to have it. I looked at her again. "I got a call from Jasper a while back and he wants to meet up," she explained, ignoring my shocked face.

"You know, Alice, I'm a little offended that you would leave me on my big night," she said, turning Alice's words back on her.

Alice looked playfully outraged. "Well since you never invited me in the first place, just pretend I wasn't here to begin with."

They both shared a laugh, then Alice was gone.

"Are you sure you don't want to go up? I'm sure you would blow the crowd away."

I shook my head. "Thanks, but no."

"Okay. Next week, though," she reminded me.

A new song started playing from overhead, telling us that the open mike night was over. And wouldn't it be "My Heart" by Paramore.

"You know I was listening to this song the first day I saw you," she told.

_I know_. "You were?" I asked, pretending to be surprised.

"Yup," she said casually. "This is the third time listening to it together, and two of them were by chance," she pointed out. "I think this is becoming our song."

I smiled at her words, and the inside of me grew a little warmer. "I like that." A lot.

We grabbed a free table and started talking again about nothing. It was so easy to be with her this way, just talking and "hanging out" as the humans would call it. Soon, we started losing track of time.

"Peirce?" Anya said out of nowhere.

"Yeah?" she answered, looking up to where three friends where behind her.

Anya gave her an expectant look and her eyes darted to me, then back again.

Peirce shook herself. "Oh, um, guys this is Edward," she introduced me. "And Edward, this is Anya, Eric, and Aaron."

I smiled at them in what I hoped was a friendly expression. "Nice to meet you all."

Anya smiled back. "From our composition class, right?"

"That's right."

"Interesting meeting you here," she noted.

"That's exactly what I said," Peirce agreed, looking back at me.

"So, we were just heading out," Aaron interjected, a little rudely in my opinion. "Are you coming?"

"Uh…" She looked at me a little uncertainly. Was she contemplating staying with me? "Um, I think I'm going to stay and hang out with Edward for a while longer. Is that okay?"

_Of course it's okay!_

No it wasn't_. _She shouldn't want to be around me. I should tell her to leave,

"Sure," Anya said immediately, and I rejoiced again. "I'll see you at home.

"Thanks. And take this with you, will ya?" Peirce said, gesturing to the guitar case.

Anya may have been okay with this plan, but I could tell that not everyone was. Aaron's mental voice just got distinctively louder, protesting internally because he couldn't do it out loud.

I tried to hold my smile, because really, i wanted shove it his like bratty child. She chose me, not him, me!

"I'll see you guys later," she said dismissively, much to my delight.

They left at that without another word, and I was extremely pleased with the mental distress of the rude Aaron.

"You'd rather stay with me than go with your friends?" I asked incredulously.

She shrugged. "I see can them anytime. But then again, I'm starting to think the same about you, seeing as you keep popping up everywhere." Her statement might have been accusatory if it hadn't been for the pleased smile she was wearing as she said it.

I was amazed at the difference in her attitude towards me. Turns out I'd made a lot more progress than I'd thought if she was choosing me over her friends. Though I knew this was good for me, bad for her, I smiled to myself.

But my smile quickly dissipated as I realized the danger of this. She was starting to trust me, just as I wanted, but she was going to be in trouble if this continued. I was doing a horrible job of giving her a heads up. Instead of doing what was right and warning her away, I was inviting her further in.

Again with the horrible déjà vu. The last time I had failed to protect the sweet and innocent, she had been thrown mercilessly into my world and ended up dying before she'd ever really lived. I didn't want to make the same mistake twice but I was helpless against Peirce. I wanted to be around her. I wanted her to want me near, as well.

"Hey," she said, quickly calling back my attention. "You okay?"

I did my best to smile. "I'm fine."

"Hey, everyone." The MC came back on stage, interrupting my reverie. "Looks like it's time for us to start closing up." I was surprised to see that the place was pretty packed still, and the all the remaining humans booed at the fact that they were being kicked out. "I know, I know, it sucks, but you gotta go, so get out. We'll be back open at nine tomorrow."

"Time to go," she said, standing up. I immediately started cursing and praising the MC for ending my time with her. At least someone was making it easier for me remember my task.

Fortunately and unfortunately, I noticed that as soon as we exited the coffee shop, she started walking. And not towards the parking lot.

"Peirce," I called quickly. "Are you walking?"

"Yeah," she answered. "I'll see you later, okay?"

I shook my head unintentionally and spoke without meaning to. "Not okay."

Her eyes narrowed. "I beg your pardon."

"I have another question for you: are you crazy? You can't walk alone now."

"And why not?"

"Don't tell me you're not aware of what city we're in."

She rolled her eyes. "I appreciate your concern, but I'll be fine."

"I know you will," I said as I started towards her, "because I'm walking you home. It's not safe for someone like you to be walking alone at this hour."

Her eyes widen in incredulity. "What's that supposed to mean, 'someone like me'?"

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes because surely she knew what I meant. "Let's go."

"Well aren't you a gentlemen, first driving me home during the treacherous storm last night and now walking me home at this 'dangerous hour'." She mocked my voice as she said the last part. "Do you make it a habit of saving damsels in distress?"

I immediately sobered. _Saving damsels in distress_…

I ignored her comment, trying not to drown in the depression her words suddenly brought me. "This place is full of sociopathic monsters who love to prey on young beautiful women."

_Trust me_, I wanted to say. _I used to hunt them. I used to be one_.

"Trust me, Edward," she said, copying my thoughts. "I know exactly what kind of creeps there are in this world."

I saw something new in her eyes as well as hearing it in her voice. Something told me that she was speaking the truth and she did know some of the bad things that were in the world, though I doubted she knew _exactly_ about all the evil. She didn't about _me_ for instance.

But her statement disturbed me. She spoke as if she had personal experience in this area, and how could that be? Had someone hurt her?

I had to swallow my angry growl at the thought.

"So we're both in agreement," I said. "It's not worth the risk to let you go on your own. Lead the way."

She stared at me for another moment, probably ascertaining that I wasn't going to budge, and then sighed and started walking.

I smiled again at the small victory.

Then groaned internally. Walking her home, spending more time with her, encouraging her to be with me more. If I kept this up, it could be argued that I was _trying_ to get her in trouble.

_But this is different_, I told myself. She can't be on her own at this hour. This was the NYC after all. I was protecting her by walking home with her. Surely there were other dangerous things out there, at least right now, possibly threatening her life. I was doing the right thing by being with her now.

_Just keep telling yourself that_.

"You always shiver when I bring you home," I noted, taking off my jacket for her.

"Oh no." She shook her head. "You don't have to."

"Come on," I said exasperatedly. "You're cold. Just take it."

"But won't you get cold?"

I smiled wryly. "Cold doesn't bother me." I put it around her shoulders before she could protest anymore. "There. You'll feel better in no time."

The look on her face confused me. She looked so…thankful. And surprised, like she wasn't used to people helping her out.

"Thanks," she said softly, still looking at me with those wide blue eyes.

"You're welcome." I couldn't resist looking back at her, held in her trance. I did notice, however, that this wasn't helping my resolve to warn her away from me, but when she stared at me with those blue eyes, there was nothing I could do but stare back.

Too soon, she broke away. Shaking herself, like she was trying to get back to her cool and collected self. "Um, yeah, thanks. But all of this really isn't necessary." She nodded towards the jacket. "The jacket, the walk…"

I laughed. "Do you think chivalry is dead or are you trying to kill it yourself?"

She laughed too. "I can take of myself. And I'm not used to gentlemen."

"Wouldn't your boyfriend do this for you?" I asked, trying to not sound so bitter.

"Boyfriend?" she asked confused, then she laughed. "You mean Aaron. He's not my boyfriend. No way." She laughed again.

I very much liked the way she disowned him in such a careless manner.

"No way?" I asked.

"Most likely never."

"Not according to him," I told her.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"He likes you," I said, as if it was obvious, and really, it was.

"Of course he likes me," she said in the same tone, and just when I was about to accuse her of an over-inflated ego again, she said, "we're friends."

"Not for long if he has his way." I sounded bitter again.

"No way," she said again, but instead of disowning him again, she was arguing with me now.

"Yes way," I shot back. "You should have seen his face when you said you were going to stay with me." Thinking of that expression of disappointment, frustration and agitation put a smile on my face. And thinking about the fact that he looked like that because Peirce had chosen to stay with me instead of him made it even wider.

"That's ridiculous. What do you know, anyway?" she said dismissively.

"I know that he most likely hates me now," I said, cheerful again.

"Please. Aaron and I work the way we are. Hell, we're barely even friends, more like acquaintances. He doesn't even know my favourite colour."

Curiosity sparked. "What is your favourite colour?"

"I don't really have one. It changes from day to day. Depends on my mood."

Pain laced through my heart. I wonder where I've heard that before.

"Are there any colours you don't like?" I asked.

"I don't like brown," she said with distaste.

I snorted. "Why brown?"

"Isn't it obvious?" she asked. "Mud, poo, beans. All brown, all gross."

I laughed at her expression. "Okay, fair enough." I liked that she distinctly didn't like brown.

"What's your favourite colour?"

I spoke without thinking. "Blue." As in blue eyes. Surprisingly not brown eyes.

"Really," she said a little knowingly.

"Really," I answered. "Favourite food?"

"Are we playing twenty questions now?"

I shrugged. "Are you going to answer?"

"French fries dipped in applesauce," she said simply.

"That makes no sense. Not to mention it sounds revolting." French fries and applesauce. How bizarre.

"Don't knock it till you try it," she defended playfully. "What about you? What's you're favourite meal?"

"I don't really have one." I smiled at my own joke. "Favourite book?"

And that's how we went on. Once again we found ourselves in the same easy conversation. I asked her every question that came to mind, from her favourite things, to her most hated things. I was surprised that these little insignificant things about her caught my attention, but then again, I guess I shouldn't be. These little facts made up the whole of who she was, and I wanted to know all about her. And this was another step closer to getting her to share the more important things about herself.

"Here we are," she said, coming to halt and looking up at her loft, then back to me. "Are you done for tonight?"

"Absolutely not," I said honestly. "There's still so much more I need to ask."

She raised an eyebrow. "I think you're way over your twenty question limit."

"Then I suppose we'll have to make up a new name for this game," I said.

She smiled. "Alright then." She looked back to the entrance of her building and I was so upset to know that my time with her was over. "Thanks for the walk home, even though it wasn't really necessary."

I laughed. "What's wrong with being a gentlemen?"

"Most 'gentlemen' aren't exactly gentle, not in the long run. I'm not used to the guys like you, the good guys," she explained.

"Well, get used to it," I told her.

"How will you get home?" she asked.

"I'll walk, of course," I said. "No one will be able to hurt me." I'd like to see a flimsy human try.

"Tough guy, huh?" She shook her head. "Give me your phone." I quickly complied and she took a picture of herself with it, immediately started pressing buttons, and then her phone started to ring. She took a picture of me, typed a bit more, then put her phone away. "Text me when you get home safely," she said as she handed mine back. "Otherwise I'll be up all night shitting myself with worry."

I laughed at her vulgar language. And maybe the fact that she would worry about me.

She wasn't making anything easier. Putting her number in my cell phone would only enable me to use this as an advantage to see her again. I wouldn't be strong enough to keep from using this enticing little tool I now had.

_You should just erase it_, I told myself. But I knew I wouldn't.

_You should tell her to leave and then never speak to her again_. I knew it was the right thing to do.

_Run, Peirce, run_. I tried the words out mentally, but couldn't bring myself to use them verbally.

She started to take off my jacket, but I quickly stopped her. "Keep it," I told her, holding onto the zipper. "I'll be fine." What was wrong with me?

"Are you sure?" she asked uncertainly. "It's, like, ice out here."

"I'll be fine," I repeated.

I hadn't realized that I'd pulled her closer to me, and I couldn't believe that she had let me, but suddenly I felt her warmth radiating onto me, and my senses were assaulted by her. I wanted to wrap my arms around her, bring her flush against me so I could get more of her heat, and burry my face in her neck so I could get more of her scent, the scent that was burning my throat and tempting me in more ways than one.

My eyes were drawn down to her lips. Those full, red, seemingly soft lips. What would they feel like against my smooth, polished ones? Would it be like what I remembered, or completely different? Did I want it to be familiar or not?

A wisp of hair flew into her face and she quickly brushed it back behind her many-times pierced ear. How would her hair feel as I delved my hands through it? I bet it would cling to my fingers, it looked so smooth and thick.

I was struck with the realization that all these questions led to one big one: did I want to kiss her?

The answer was obvious.

My body immediately got excited, another erection popping up at the thought. To have her small, soft body pressed up against me, to run my hands through her hair, to feel her lips moving with mine… it would be some sort of paradise. It would be the ultimate distraction, to have my mind muddled by the sensation and be completely free from the mental torture, for at least a moment.

I wanted that. I wanted to kiss Peirce.

_Bad idea, bad idea_, my more sensible, less selfish side yelled at me. I was supposed to warn her away.

_Run, Peirce, run. _

_Say it._

I couldn't.

Instead I leaned closer to her, and closer still. I could feel her warm breath as she leaned into me as well. Her scent was everywhere, so sweet and tempting, demanding almost, but I was able to get past it to something potentially more gratifying.

Both my hands were holding the jacket now, holding her closer. Just as we were about to make contact, her breath caught and she turned her head to the side, avoiding my lips.

I sighed as the spell was broken.

"I should probably go," I murmured as she stepped out of my grasp.

"That may be a good idea," she agreed. She must have seen the regretful look in my eye, because then she said, "I'm sorry, Edward, I'm just, not there yet."

I shook my head. "It's okay." She shouldn't be upset for stopping the disaster in the making.

She started backing away. "I'll see you around, okay?"

I smiled slightly. "I'll see you around."

* * *

><p>Hey everyone! I'm back with more so please yell at me for making you wait. Comment!<p> 


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